Mashup
by ChibiKanakoNyu
Summary: After a small... "mistake", fueled by copious amounts of rage and alcohol, Sanji is painfully aware of the colour green wherever he goes. Especially if it's called hair on someone's ugly head. Dammit, his old man kept telling him not to go kissing around plants... - ZoSan - NamiViviKohza - FRobin - for the OPBIGBANG 2015 project! Warnings: alcohol, mild sex. assault, swearing
1. Not Myself Tonight

**Chapter 1: "Not Myself Tonight"**

A few scrubs here, some more wipes there… Yes, _perfect._ Sanji straightened up again in his standing, and happily knocked the heel of his freshly polished shoes against the tiles of his hall.

He looked himself over again in his tall mirror on the wall. Straightening the vivid blue fabric of his new pants over his shoes, he smiled at the combination, pleased. He originally wanted to wear his red cowboy boots to the ensemble, but March was getting warmer, so he thought better of it; he would heat up the dancefloor plenty with just his shoes, anyway.

And how well his newest purchase matched his favourite shirt! The sapphire-like rhinestones covering the boot cut legs of his pants just went so well with the blue-purple wave patterns along his shirt that he almost felt like giggling of joy! How lucky he had been to have found it on discount in a designer store! People really have no fashion sense, discarding a pair of awesome pants like that for half price. But all the better for him! Thank heavens Nami-swan had been there to spot it!

Maybe the tie was a bit too much, though. He fingered it absentmindedly while downing the last of his wine and set the glass down onto the shoes cabinet. The baby pink colour was good in itself to the set, he thought, but he wasn't feeling formal that evening. Maybe if he left it loose around his neck? No, too hobo. Besides, if the night went exceptionally well, it might end up tied around his forehead, like on drunkard old men in movies… His eyes drifted onto his empty glass, as if to question it about his alcohol tolerance for the night.

Nah. Sanji unfolded the tie after all, and hung it onto the coat rack by the mirror; he would put it away later. Instead, based on a sudden and brilliant idea, he undid the first three buttons of his shirt. Yes, maybe even the fourth. He had worked out a lot lately, so why not show it off?

One last comb through his hair, and he was done. _Damn,_ he was one hot son of a bitch. His only goal was to look better than Patty and Carne probably would - which is to say, a little less like shit -, but boy, he had sure outdone himself. The pretty ladies would be all over him at the club…

Definitely not wiping drool from the corner of his mouth, Sanji reached for his jacket. It was barely over his arms when he had already closed the apartment door and started down the stairs and outside. Only when he was already jumping down the street halfway to the Baratie did he remember that he had left his music player at home. Well, didn't matter. The music was already pumping in his head, anyway.

It was just a short walk from his apartment to the Baratie. In spite of that, though, when he saw its fish-shaped design, Sanji didn't even remember how he got there already. Teleport?

Sure enough, the two idiots Patty and Carne were standing in front, waiting for him. These losers. Wearing fucking jeans and sneakers. The _one time_ Sanji was sacrificing himself for their sorry asses and begrudgingly agreed to go party with them, and they show up dressed as if they had just climbed out of a trashcan. Guess who wasn't going to waste his time and sex appeal on these assholes again.

"Finally! Where the hell were you?" Patty called out to him, waving one meaty arm.

"What are you whining about? I'm even early. Since when does that old man let anyone off before 10?"

"Did it ever occur to you that it's just _you_ he likes to fuck over?" Carne grinned.

"Nooo, never crossed my fucking mind," Sanji mocked, sneering, to which the other two just laughed. These bastards… Their brains were so tiny, those bean-sized morsels wouldn't even be worth cracking their heads open for. Before he would lose his buzz, Sanji started down the street again. "Move your asses, let's go!"

If one of them had forgotten that it was Saturday night, the rows and rows of people waiting to get into the Zombie Night club would have served as a great reminder. Patty and Carne would have comfortably settled down at the end of it like grannies in line for their sanitary diapers. Sanji would have none of that, no fucking way. He wasted no time with tugging both of the guys towards the entrance, past complaining dudebros and yammering teens. He was just looking around for a familiar face at the doors when a very grim and ugly one came into view to put a halt to their march. Sanji couldn't decide if his green hair made him look more intimidating or just plain ridiculous, especially as it contrasted with the huge logo of the club, a bright pink crown o on his black T-shirt. That fake scar was especially over the top, though. Sure, the place was zombie-themed and all, but come the fuck on...

"Oi, Zoro!" Finally, Usopp emerged from inside, just as Sanji had hoped. He had his curious bag that looked like a giant purse slung across his back; he had probably just gotten off his shift. Phew, they had still caught him, barely. The green-haired guy that had probably just started his shift as a security guard after him didn't look nearly as pleasant to convince…

The guy named Zoro turned around to the call, directing his ugly mug away from them, thankfully. Usopp clapped both the guard and the rebel on the shoulder, like a glorified peace patriot. His friend Usopp had a tough grip to him now, Sanji noticed. To think he had been this scrawny kid not so long ago… He was almost jealous.

"Let them in, eh, Zoro?" The long-nose nodded to Sanji and his company. "It's his birthday!"

Usopp was making use of his 'buddy-buddy' tone of voice, the one he was always telling jokes in. That either meant that the fake-scarred creep was a tough one, or he was lying. Sanji's bet was on the latter. A bet easily won, since he was pretty sure his birthday had been three weeks ago. Close enough to a white lie? Definitely. As long as it got them in.

"Fine," Zoro scoffed and stood aside, pressing the most hideous metaphorical stamp onto their passports to Partyland. Too bad the guy had a stern voice to match his looks. Sanji would have loved a good laugh at some squeaky-ass voice bidding them inside…

"Have a great time, guys!" Usopp cheered and patted them on the back as he pushed his way out through the crowd of impatiently waiting people.

Sanji sure as hell didn't feel like lingering long, either, and stepped forward. However, there apparently were people outside who didn't think his initiative fast enough, and thus the outline of Carne's pug-nose was imprinted into his back, and Patty's body weight adding to the shove had him stumbling inside. He could barely stay standing, and his colleagues composed a pile on the floor behind him. Fuckdammit. He was planning his entry the whole afternoon… They would pay for this.

Straightening his shirt and mingling into the crowd, Sanji let his eyes get used to the overall darkness of the place. Purple and pink neon lights served as the only illumination. The colourful light ran in tubes shaped like spider webs, hanging above the booths lining the walls that resembled overgrown tombstones and haunted mausoleums. Most of the brightness, however, came streaming from the bar in the middle of the dancefloor, luring in for a just as vivid drink. Its shelves and the counter itself had been built to the likeness of coffins. It made an interesting metaphor, Sanji had to admit. After a few shots especially. And with the prospect of spending the night with some choice idiots, he felt inclined to go deeper into that topic. He was between the stages A-Lil-Bit-Tipsy and Too-Damn-Sober-For-Your-Bullshit, and that wouldn't do.

Just as he was about to approach the bar, Sanji had to stop in sudden recoil. Lola was the bartender again. Oh fuck no. That woman was insane, wanting to marry every possible guy she exchanged as much as two shitty words with... How desperate can one be, hitting on everything that moves? Sanji would never understand. Ever.

Patty liked her well enough, though. Maybe he should just wait until the two of them vomited triple rainbows at each other and have Patty bring them a round on the house…?

"Sanji-kuuuun!"

Oh, could it be? Could his darling angel have descended from the heavens to rescue him? And indeed, there she was, his sweet Nami-swan, waving a graceful hand towards him, beckoning him closer…

The perfect moment was chased away by an ungodly grunt from behind him. Sanji snapped his head back at the noise. Great. Patty and Carne must have been able to scrape their asses off the floor and were looking for him. Turning forward, he sighed in delight; his saving angel was still there, sitting in one of the booths, waiting just for him…!

He had to act quickly.

In a matter of seconds, Sanji was already standing at the booth in question. The good thing about a full house party? You could shove anyone aside while moving forward, because all they would do was think of you as a dancing drunk dickhead, plus they would just bump into someone else instead of falling onto their ass, anyway. Crossing the packed dancefloor was easy, if you had the drive to dive into the mass of sweaty body parts. And oh, Sanji was driven by _love._ Nothing compared to that. It wouldn't be his fault from there on out if the two muttonheads couldn't follow suit, right?

"Come on, Sanji-kun!" His fiery red haired angel beckoned him to the spot in opposite of her at the rickety wooden table. Their booth looked like the torn-off bottom half of a small pirate ship, with planks and ragged sails hanging about. The benches were cushioned, at least. Nami-san's comfort came first.

"Nami-swaaaan, it's so good to see you! You shine the light on this dark pla-"

"You're just in time!" Nami interrupted, slapping her palm and bracelets onto the table. "Keimi has just lost our drinking contest, haha!"

"Keimi-chan is here, too?" Sanji clapped his hands together in glee. Finding a mermaid oasis beneath the ruins of a derelict ship - oh, what a lucky sailor he was! "Where is she?" He looked around excitedly.

"Urggghhhhh…!"

The loud, horrific groaning from somewhere next to him had Sanji clap his hands together again. Repeatedly. Like a circus seal from a cartoon. In denial, he quickly dropped his palms down onto the table. Nope, nothing to see here.

"I'm over here..." A more pleasant and much more audible voice spoke, and from somewhere under the table, Keimi-chan's adorably unruly head of hair emerged, just high enough to smack down onto the table again. "Hi Sanji-chin, I didn't know you were also… Urghhh..." Sanji kept conveniently looking over the fact that Keimi had the most disturbing facial expression, and if at all possible, produced even worse throaty screeching whenever she was in distress; scared, or much too drunk, for that matter. It all just added to her cuteness, he decided.

"Awww, Nami-swan, you should have warned Keimi-chan how glamorous you are at drinking people under the table..."

Sanji wished he could have seen it, though. Nami-swan, his fair and feisty goddess bringing the brave and beautiful Keimi-chan to her knees… Waves clashing, classes clinking, drinks spilling, cardigans thrown aside, drunk hugging… _Shit,_ he needed a handkerchief, stat!

"Hah! And where's the fun in that?" Nami countered with a loud and very charming cackle. How noble of her not to note his embarrassing nosebleed with anything more than a most adorable nose-wrinkling. "Well, _she_ said she drinks like a fish," she shrugged, "so I thought she could handle it. Right, Keimi?" She poked the dizzy-looking girl with the butt of her empty beer glass.

"Then _you_ drink like a mutant whale…! Hey! Hahaha! No, that tickles! Ack, cooold!" Keimi-chan tried to swat the glass away from her ears and neck, her giggling turning into shrieks. Then, in a split second, she went back to gripping the table's edge, so tightly as if she was being sucked in by a whirlpool. "Urghhh, nooo, everything's spinning…!" Well, it probably must have felt very much like it. Poor sweet naive Keimi-chan. There must be something Sanji could-

"I'll get you some water, Keimi-chan!" He sprang up from the table. "That'll definitely make you feel better, my darling mermaid princess!"

"Don't bother, Mr. Prince," Nami waved a hand while readjusting a glass that still had most of the beer in it on the table; probably what Keimi-chan couldn't finish. Nah, Nami-san couldn't have been rolling her eyes at him. And if she would have, she was a beauty while doing that, too, Sanji was certain. "Shakky-san should be back soon with some water for our beached fish-girl."

"Shakky-san? Shakky-san is here?"

"Ah, look who it is!" As if summoned by her name called out three times, Shakky stopped at their table with a large tray in her hands. "If it isn't Kuroashi-chan. Care to help me with this?"

"Of course! Anything for you, Shakky-san!" Sanji immediately sprang out from behind the table to take the tray, and to let her slide into the booth.

While Keimi-chan slid onto the narrow part of the U-shaped bench at the head of the table to give Shakky space to sit down, Sanji set the copious amounts of drinks down onto the table. Well, to be fair, there was a bowl of salted peanuts between the glasses, but there were just so many of those around it that it was hard to spot right away. Who the hell was going to drink all of that…

"Oh look, Sanji-kun!" Nami exclaimed. "Shakky-san brought your drinks!"

"Well no, this one is mine," mature and gorgeous Shakky-san replied with a chuckle, elegantly lifting a glass of wine off the table. "And this is for Mermaid-chan," she said as she set a bottle of mineral water in front of the groaning Keimi-chan. "There are peanuts for you, too."

"Thanks so much, Shakky-san, you're my hero…!" Keimi-chan lifted her head to smile over at the older woman.

"Sure. That'll be ten thousand Beli, please," Shakky-san extended her hand as if to expect the payment immediately, and Nami in opposite broke out laughing. It wasn't so hard to see how the two fabulous divas bonded.

"Uaaaagh, how cruel!" Keimi-chan wailed with her eyes popped-out. "You guys are awful!" She complained, taking her water bottle with the cutest pout Sanji had ever seen. Though, after her eyes wandered to the lamp in the middle of the table - an old oil lamp, refashioned to be an eerie lava lamp -, the bright pink and red hues probably made the world spin with her again, judging from how her head fell back down on the table.

"Well, she won't be needing _this _anymore, right?" Nami-swan moved to take the beer glass with still some in it from in front of her.

"Shakky-san," Sanji turned to her after she stopped chuckling. It was too wonderful a sound to interrupt, after all… "Didn't you say you wouldn't set foot in here again? Because the Zombie Night is your rival?"

"Oh, that was before it changed owners. That Moria fellow gave me a lot of bad advertisement, so I wouldn't do him a favour by buying his drinks. But Perona-chan seems much more agreeable." Shakky-san explained while Sanji took a sip of his drink and…

Wait. When did he…? Sanji took a peek at the glass, and found a trail of glittery lip gloss stains on the rim. That was… How did Keimi-chan's glass get into his hands?

"Can you imagine her owning a bar, though? With all the money involved? I bet she's getting help from someone..." Nami-swan put in. Not even a dozen glasses of beer could make her less serious about money matters. Nami-swan was so magnificent while she was being economical~ Oh, and the sweet innocent face she looked at him with, after she glanced at the glass in his hand… "Aww, what is it, Sanji-kun? We shouldn't waste that booze now, should we?" Ah, Nami-swan was absolutely wonderful when she was practical! Sanji was falling in love with her all over again…!

"Well, she might have partnered with someone?" Shakky-san suggested. "I've heard all kinds of rumours about the owner being an aristocratic master of some kind of martial art… Or maybe it's the government?"

Ah, Shakky-san was blowing him away with how knowledgeable and mysterious she spoke… She was pretty famous for holding a lot of information on the comings and goings around town, and beyond. She could have been some kind of spy, playing the head of a bar. On a mission to steal Sanji's heart, probably…!

"In any case, Sanji-kun," she smiled at him, "it never hurts to see what the competition is up to."

"Not that anything could compare to your cozy tavern, Shakky-san. No need to worry!"

"Hah, I bet you would say the same to Perona if she happened to show up..." His fiery goddess jested, delicately downing half a glass of beer. Why yes, she was still absolutely stunning while rolling her eyes, too.

"Oh, right, Nami-swan!" Sanji set his empty glass onto the table. "How come Vivi-chan is not here? You party together since college..."

"Oh, yeah, Vivi..." Nami averted her gaze for a moment. "She um… She said she has a lot to study for. For her second degree." She said with a smile. Nami-swan's smile was as brilliant as a thousand jewels, but looking at her now, Sanji felt his heart shatter like mere glass. "Wow, a second doctorate. Our Vivi-chan is so smart, isn't she?" She announced, forcing a laugh.

"Nami-san..." He blurted. Something must have happened. He had to…!

"Okay! Let's hit it, Sanji-kun!" His angel suddenly exclaimed, and raised her glass to her lips to empty it all in just a few refined gulps. And just as swiftly, she set a full glass of beer in front of him with a clang. "May the best one win!"

"B-but Nami-sa-" No, he shouldn't. His glass of wine at home and Keimi-chan's beer was already messing with his vision. Taking on Nami-san in a drinking contest would be downright suicidal…!

"Oh, another match?" Shakky-san leaned an elbow over the table, amused.

"Ughhh, I can't watch..." Came some whimpering from Keimi-chan.

"One…! Two…! Three!"

Oh no...

Most of his beer was on its prickly way down when Nami-swan's glass already slammed down onto the table. She swiftly took another one from the tray. When she turned back, Sanji felt fidgety under her expectant gaze. He should have just drawn back and admit defeat; he obviously couldn't win against his dazzling queen… But by then, Shakky-san was kind enough to set a full glass of beer down in front of him. _Shit…_

Gone was a second glass. Then a third. Sanji only remembered half of the fourth one, and he vaguely recalled the other half landing on the table and on his new pants… But relentlessly came the next glass, and then yet another, until Keimi-chan climbed over Nami to run out to the bathroom, and Shakky-san excused herself to get some more to drink. How did she get out from nexto to him? Did he stand up? Did she climb, like Keimei-chan? Fuck, he couldn't remember…

"Stop your frowning and drink, you scurvy sea dog!"

Nami-swan hooted. Was that really what she said? She reached over to tilt his glass a bit more for him. Did she want to spill his clothes so wet that she would have to… strip them… off…?

Sanji heard Nami-san raising her voice in complaint. What the hell was she saying? Something about precious uh… goose? Ooze? _Something_, 'ruined by snotty nose-blood'. What blood? Where? Oh, right, it was his! Sanji heard himself laugh, or at least he thought he did… Damn, his kerchief was soggy and beer-smelling…

In the next second, he was opening a door. How did he get in there? Where…? Oh, right, bathroom. Man, he really should stop teleporting all over the place… Fuck, the light was stinging his eyes. No, wait, that was smoke. Smelled of it, too. Sanji noticed he was looking down onto the floor, at his shoes. No, definitely not on fire. Why would they be? Oh, yes, that's right, something about heating up the dancefloor… Shit, he wanted to dance. And to smoke… Who was smoking?

"Who's smoking?!"

"Who's asking?" How annoying, answering a question with a question. Even if it was a lady…

What?

"Over here, pretty boy," he heard the same voice again, and as he looked up - why was he looking down again? -, he spotted a pretty lady sitting on the counter in front of the mirror, with rows of sinks built into it. Wow, what a beauty… Long, gorgeous legs and a very short skirt, and oh, an apron! A slender waist, budding breasts, long, curly hair… Was he imagining her? "Hey, can you hear me? You want a smoke?" The way she spoke, it sounded kind of rough… Well, Sanji supposed he liked it rough. He. Hehehe.

"Hehe… Uh, no, um..." Shit, he might even marry this girl one day and he's making a fool of himself. Where was it… Where was it…?! He frantically patted around for his cigarettes and lighter, even though his hands felt as heavy as lead. The pack he pulled out of his pocket was dripping… Did it melt because his pants were too hot? Hahaha...

"Well, those won't be burning anymore," the pretty lady laughed. "Here, funny guy. Have one."

She extended an opened pack of cigarettes towards him. Sanji had it between his lips before he even took it out, so he obviously had to take one out now, or else the space-time continuum would slip and… What?

"Hey-hey! Just one!" The lady pulled her arm and the cigs back. She stuffed the box between her breasts. Or was there a pocket? What, on her breasts? That's ridiculous… "Come on, let me light that for you."

She was beckoning him closer with a finger, and Sanji obliged gladly. Ow, why was the sink digging into his side all of a sudden… Looking up, he found himself looking down a barrel of a gun, because that was a natural thing to do, and…

"Eeeh?!"

"Relax," the lady said, and she pulled the trigger… kindling fire at the end of the gun. "Just kidding. It's a lighter."

Making sure the cigarette is in his mouth - oh, maybe he had just crumpled it, whatever -, he leaned closer to the flame. Damn, it was hot. Was his hair burning? Oh god no! He fumbled over his hair in a panic, but there was nothing on fire. Phew. His face was feeling kinda hot, though, now that he mushed his palms against his cheeks. Oh fuck, need to suck on that cigarette before it goes out…!

Sanji took a deep drag of the cigarette, and so did the lady, tilting her head back. It had a minty flavour. He liked minty.

"Oh, look at you two! Like peas in a pod!"

Suddenly, the bathroom became very crowded. There were six ladies, with fancy hairstyles and even flashier clothing, tumblring out of the three bathroom stalls. How did they do that? And why were they all in the men's room...? Because, well, the curly-haired lady with the gun was obviously there to lend Sanji a gun - no, a lighter -, but the others?

"Look, it's as if they would look into a mirror! That haircut would suit you, curly boy~" They kept insisting, so Sanji looked into the mirror. He didn't get it.

Oh shit, his nose was still bloody. Bloody hell. He turned the faucet nearest to him to get some water, but the damn thing just wouldn't budge! Which was did faucets open again? Do people actually know that? Ah, finally, water… Sanji bent down to try and wash the blood out of his moustache. Hey, hey, hey, where was his cigarette going?!

"You want to drench this one, too?" The curly maid lady scorned, bonking Sanji in the head with her lighter. Oh, she had his cigarette! How did she do that? "You must really not be thirsty anymore..." She sighed and turned to the other ladies queueing at the sinks behind each other. "Are you done in the stalls, girls?"

"It's all yours, my dear~" One of them chirped in a very cutesy way. Somehow, they all sounded like old women…

"Thanks!"

Just as she hopped down from where she had been sitting, the door opened, and a seventh lady entered the bathroom. Or was she the eighth?

"Oh, Carol-sama, where were you?" The women in the queue called to the newcomer. Newkama. Hahaha..! "We're almost all done!"

"Hi Baby!" She called to the lady at the sink. Were they dating…? "The ladies room is still being cleaned, then?"

"Yeah… Never mind me, ladies, It'll be just a sec."

The maid held her cigarette stub under the sink in front of Sanji to extinguish it. Oh, right, the water was still running… She twisted the faucet off before he could, though, and stuck his cigarette back into his mouth. Then she stepped around the other ladies to get to the stall in the middle. Wow, she was so slim compared to the others. Curvier, too, and much less… hairy...?

Sanji's midsection view shifted from the door closing behind "Baby's" perky butt - did he really just think that, pfff -, to one of the ladies stepping to the wall between the door and the row of stalls. Wait. What was she doing at that urinal? Was that… Were those… panties, on the floor around her ankles? No, a thong. A pink one, with frills and teddy bears on it. Ducks were cuter… No, nono wait, were girls supposed to be able to piss in an upward curve like that? Or was that apple juice? Why would she waste…? No, that was piss. And that, over there, under her dress, that was a d… d-di…!

Sanji felt his face burning again. He reached up to pat over it, his fingers found his cigarette, so he pinched it tight and sucked on it deep. Eyes closed, keep it down, let it out slowly… Everything would be clear again. However, his warmth turned into cold sweat running down his back as he dared himself to look again. All around were hairy legs, wide shoulders, no breasts, square jaws, wigs…

What the flying mothership of gracious fucks was going on?!

"Awww, Tibany-chan, look what you did! Sweet curly boy over there looks so embarrassed!"

"My oh my~" The la- _devil_ called Tibany made a show of pulling her thongs back on in a very schoolgirly manner. "Have I startled you?"

"Aww, look, he's so shy~ He's blushing!"

"Now-now, girls, you're scaring him!" The big, chunky one with the red wig standing nearest to Sanji, Carol-sama, stepped even closer to him.

She- _He_ was trying to grab his face, but Sanji doubled back, sliding further along the line of sinks, stepping on a few huge feet. However, his back soon slammed against the corner where Baby had been smoking. Fuck, he was so distracted by his hand being at the _very spot _she had been sitting that he couldn't evade the hand reaching out to grab his chin, pluck his forgotten cigarette stub from his lips and then… wipe some blood and water off his face with a handkerchief? _Eh?!_

"There we go," Carol-sama muttered. "All better, see?" S- He smiled a pot ugly, but not unkind, smile and patted Sanji's cheek with a perfume-scented hand.

"Um… T-thanks," Sanji stuttered. W-was it over…?

"Hey, Carol-sama~" One of the… the okama, spoke up. "Put your hand back on his face for a second!"

"Hmm~? Like this?" He placed his hand back onto Sanji's face. It was so soft...

"Oh yes! Just look at that red nail polish against his skin! That tone would suit him so nicely, wouldn't it~?"

"Well, I don't knooow… I think pink might go better with his eyes," Carol-sama examined his face scrutinizingly.

"Oh, and what perfect blond hair he has!" The she-male Tibany commented in an off-key sing-song voice. "It's natural, isn't it? I'm so jealous~ Oh yes, yes, I vote for pink!"

"I think I have that _fabulous glittery polish_ in my bag! Aww, but it's at our table..."

"Well then, ladies," Carol-sama smiled wickedly, and a thousand times more hideous. "Let's strut!"

The huge red haired fiend grabbed Sanji by both of his hands and started skipping out of the bathroom with him like an oversized, lovesick frog princess. The other monsters kept squealing and pushing him along, through the door and the dancing crowd. He felt so damn dizzy that he wished he could teleport back into the bathroom, or else…!

"Poor dear, you look even paler!" A grandma-voice fawned over him. When did he sit down…? Where was he? Nami-san, Keimi-chan and Shakky-san weren't here, and the lamp looked like a pile of rainbow puke, pink and blue and green and glittery... "Here, this should help." Someone shoved a glass into his hands. It was water. Oh thank god, he was so thirsty…

Sanji took another glass, though he couldn't quite pinpoint from where. There was not much in it and someone lamented next to him. Well, he would have complained, too, if someone had served him a half-assed drink like that… Oh, but it was tasty! Kinda fruity, it barely even stung. Wow, what a weird glass, though. He had never held a cone-shaped glass before, with a stem this long. Why would he be holding the long stem of anything…?

"Oh look! I think we found Curly boy's favourite drink!"

"Don't worry, sugar, I'll get another Cosmo for you. Just sit tight and let Carol-sama finish your nails, hmm~?"

Someone gave a couple of enthusiastic pats to his hand. The hellish giggling around him seemed to intensify as he looked at his other hand, his nails as glittery pink as the table lamp. They glimmered when he moved his fingers. It looked…

"...pretty, akshually..."

"Ah, I knew you would like it~!" Carol-sama giggled and went to adjust his hair. "So gorgeous! Hey, does someone have the lipstick from the Pretty Pixie Princess collection?" Retchy Shitty Prince? Who would make make-up like that? It would make for a decent insult, though. For himself, maybe, pffft. Better forget it, before he gave someone any hints.

Ugh, Sanji wasn't feeling too good. He probably shouldn't drink anymore. Or drink a little more? Did he mishear his mind taking?

"Okay, open your mouth a little, sweetheart. Good boy, now hold still~" His lips felt sticky and smelled of wild raspberry. Was he drinking that Cosmo stuff? He swallowed. Nope, still thirsty.

"Oh, you look to die for! Come here, darling, I need a picture!"

All that flashing hurt his eyes. He wanted to yell angrily for them to stop, but his rage blew up in laughter instead. A phone screen was shoved into his face. Fuck, he looked pretty. Way prettier than any of this pack of devils. He was the motherfucking princess. He could have kissed the screen. Oh no, he shouldn't; the lipstick would come off…!

"Shit, I'm shooo drunk…" He heard giggling, and felt his breath growing short. Was that voice… his?

The world turned a few times again, and Sanji was seeing a lot more lights; laser beams, colourful dots and white flashes that illuminated the whole dance floor for a split second each time. Like seeing millions of photographs being shot. Sanji was in them. That was kind of cool, he found, but it also made him hella dizzy.

Sanji's body felt heavy, but his movements were still languid and smooth, twisting and and tilting from side to side. His face was burning up; the waft from his hair as he shook his head was very welcome against it. Shit, he was getting dizzy. Okay, deep breaths, just keep moving… Yeah, you pink fruity alcoholic motherfucker, stay down... His belt slid a bit too low on his waist, and there was a waft on his bare skin above it the more he moved. But he left it that way. His hands were busy holding someone's hand from each side, dancing in a circle. And anyways, he felt kinda sexy, making his waistline slip and slide a bit with shaking his hips. He could flaunt it. He wasn't working out for nothing. The heat was spreading throughout his body, and Sanji wanted to groan, but instead screamed the refrain of the song together with the crowd. Shit, he was drunk off his ass… But who even gave a damn, he was fucking dancing!

The _girls_ sure had a lot of stamina, but also high heels, so they left the circle one by one, until Sanji was the only representative left on the floor. Fuck sitting down, he wanted to _move._

He had hands and waists and asses pressing against him sometimes, maybe for minutes, maybe for hours; he didn't count the songs anymore after a while. Hell, he stopped giving any fucks about the perfume filling his nose being feminine or not long ago. Cheering, he kept on with the grinding and groping, regardless of soft curves or hard features. He was getting kinda horny… Shit, that was bad.

Bathroom. He needed to get to the bathroom.

A few shoves, slamming and involuntary grind-pasts later, Sanji was on the shores of the sea of raunchy dancers. Enough with the shitty sailor metaphors already.

More importantly, men's room, men's room, _men's room._ If he hadn't felt like tugging on the waistline of his pants before, he sure as hell itched for it now. Fuck, he probably shouldn't have pulled his belt up higher just now… Shit. That felt good, but _shit._ He could have worn a shirt saying 'Awkward Boner of the Century', and it would have been less embarrassing. Oh fuck no, the thought of a boner just made him all the more aware how difficult it was to walk… Shit, why did he get this drunk...

Sanji all but kicked the bathroom door open. Yes yes yes, nobody there! He went straight for the stall in the middle, all but falling against it. That was where Baby-chan…

"I'm in here!" Someone called from inside the stall. _Fuck fuck fuck._

"Hey you!" Sanji slammed a fist against the door. "Get the fuck out of there, now!" His head was reeling. Someone defiled the stall where Baby-chan…!

"No chance, man. Won't be done for a while." There was a giant farting noise. "Could take hours..."

"Then hurry it the fuck up!" Sanji kept hitting the door with both hands, then his knee. "Get out!"

"Hey, there are two more stalls, you lunatic! I'm takin' a shit here! Buzz off!"

"Get your shitty ass off that seat! Baby-chan's… Baby-chan touched that seat! Get out! Get the fuck out!"

The rancid shitty bastard that stole his moment of bliss was squealing behind the door, which was increasingly wobbling under Sanji's kicks. What if he just broke the door down? Could he break it down? Oh yes, he could break this shitty door the fuck down!

"Oi, you! The hell are you doing?!"

Heavy steps stomped along the tiled floor. Sanji could barely turn around and raise an arm before two hands gripped fistfuls of his shirt to pull him away from the door. Even with Sanji's palm smothering his face, that infuriatingly green hair gave the security guy away. Not him again…!

"Let go of me! Shitty asshole!" Sanji raised his leg to deliver a kick, but he didn't let the bastard drag him away from the door far enough, and his knee just slammed against the trembling wood again. Damn, not enough room!

He lost a precious few seconds like this, all because of his cocktail-clouded mind, and the green asshole made sure to take advantage of that, slamming Sanji's back against the stall door. He probably did it because he couldn't get rid of Sanji's hand squeezing his face. Without letting him go first, of course. By how he kept tearing at Sanji's shirt, he didn't look like he was planning to do that any time soon...

However, pressed against the door, Sanji had the perfect opportunity. His knee made fast and intense friends with the idiot's stomach, and the shitty musclebrain trembled and shrank with it. That's what he got for chasing all of his sex drive away with his bare existence. Not to mention almost ruining his _favourite fucking shirt._

Though, when Sanji aimed to triumphantly twist around the bastard and away from his confinement against the stall, he was roughly yanked back by his arm. Sure, the fuckface was leaning against the door, heaving his breaths, but his hold on him felt like iron. Huh, looked like he could actually use those muscles of his.

Sanji shifted his weight slightly, and used the bastard's arm as leverage to lean on, jump up in the air and spin a kick against his head. Well, that was where he aimed, anyway. So instead of knocking the green gorilla's head against the door, only his own foot made that impact, flying past the guy's head and splintering a hole into the door. And when he was about to reach the ground, the shithead let him go! Sanji thus went crashing into the counter of sinks behind him with all his momentum, the edge digging into his stomach. It took a lot of willpower to keep his puke down.

"You shitty son of a cumstain…!"

His dizziness was winning, however, and he had to curl over the basin, retching and shaking violently to try and hold it back, in vain. Had he known he would have to smash someone's head in at the end of the day, Sanji sure as hell would have cut down the booze dose. Not his fucking fault. He was expecting to have other kinds of action...

"Had enough already?" Just as he finally fumbled the faucet shut after washing his face, the security gorilla spoke up from behind him.

The green bastard didn't make a move, though, oh no. That pile of antelope shit was just standing there, like a glorified fucking hero of wet dream defiling club-bathroom shitters. Damn, he was pissing Sanji off!

Bracing himself on the rim of the counter, Sanji sucked in a breath, jumped up and spun his legs around. The head-kick was spot-on this time, and the big buffoon went slamming against the bathroom door; and since it was a push-door, he even spilled outside and knocked a few people over. Sanji's head swam and he tasted acidic alcohol on his tongue again, but shit, it was _worth it._

"Hey, you green clump of ass-hair!" He dashed out after the guy. "I'm up for dessert! … Huh?"

Aside from the people his fall had knocked over, there was no sign of that green bastard, no matter how many times Sanji whipped his head around. What the fuck? He was starting to feel dizzy, so he'd better show his face! Where did that shithead go?!

"Over here, princess!"

Well, it was actually nice of him to give Sanji a warning before he punched him in the face. Nice, and also ridiculously stupid. Because, you know, Sanji could have simply parried the hit with a kick or some easy shit like that.

That would have been such a blast to that idiot's smug face! But no.

God knows Sanji tried. Though all that the attempt resulted in was Sanji not only doubling back, but also falling back into the bathroom, since his leg - and bodily strength - was up in the air. Shit, he was never gonna drink again…

Sanji's eyes fluttered open again fuck knows how much later. From darkness to darkness - the first thing he beheld was an ass - the body part - in black pants, hovering right in front of his nose. Or, well, it didn't take that long to find out that it was _him_ leaning over _it_, rather. Upside down. A door closed behind them, he saw as he lifted his head, and that shoulder was digging into his stomach especially well as it was slammed shut. Sanji didn't even have to look further to know who it was… About the onlí time a man wanted to vomit on a bastard's ass, it was just not coming out, of course.

There was white underwear peeking out from under the black jeans. Wow, how lame…

"Hey, what are you-!"

Snickering, Sanji grabbed the edge of the whiteys as best as he could and pulled them up until he heard threads popping, and then some. The asshole could have dropped him a bit more gently onto the pavement, though…

Well, what do you know? They were outside. Yeah, it was quiet without the pumping party-bass, now that Sanji thought about it. Judging from the worn walls and the garbage containers, they must have come through the back exit. Too bad. More people should have seen the green asshat standing spread-legged like a rheumatic grampa, complaining about his balls. Sanji did mankind a favor with castrating him. The moss-aliens could not prevail!

"Welcome back to high school, bitch!" Sanji broke out laughing, his feet pitter-pattering on the ground.

"Yeah, well, you're the ugliest prom queen I've ever seen," the guy grumbled, stuffing his briefs back into his pants. W-wait, he wasn't really undoing his f-fucking fly, was he…?! "Broke a nail, princess?"

A nail? He's stripping and asks him about his fcking nails?! Sanji involuntarily looked down on his hands. If nothing else, to avoid seeing exactly one dick more than his quota for the night. His nails weren't broken, what was this shithead talking about? What they were was pink and… glittery…

"Heh, you're blushing?"

"Are you colourblind or something, shithead?" Sanji rose to his feet, slowly. "My face is green, like you're shitty head. 'Cause, you know, I can smell the stench of your fucking dick all the way over here and I want to puke all over you."

"Didn't you just puke, you drunk bastard? Anyway, no. Still red." That green-haired musclehead was grinning, fucking _grinning_ at him! Sanji's pulse was pumping in his ears. Oh, he would give that smug, ugly mug if his the makeover of his lifetime…!

"When I'm done with you, a red smear is all you'll be, you shitty rot-brain!"

Preparing for a jump, Sanji bent his knees. As a reaction to that, the bastard slid his right leg back in his stance. Sanji sprang forward, a bit to the right. He was going for the confusion tactic. The anticipated punch whistled past his ear, just as he had hoped, so he could twirl away to the left from it, shifting his weight to propel his knee right into the guy's left side. The air outside helped his fuzzy mind a bit. Not as if he actually needed that to defeat this assface…

Said assface slid his mangy hand beneath his thigh, though. His arm followed, looped into his other arm, and Sanji's vision tilted, and then darkened as he slid off the wall after the impact. He coughed and wiped bloody snot from his nose. Heh. That fucking asswipe. Those gorilla arms of his were not half bad…

It was the shitty bastard initiating the next attack as soon as Sanji got up to his feet. That loser slammed his fist straight into the wall past Sanji's ears. That would hurt in the morning. The green-head's side was wide open to him this way, though…

"What, forgot your glasses?!" So why pass up an opportunity to kick the wound while it's still hot? Or wasn't that how it went…? Well, whatever.

That sorry excuse of a security guy doubled over in pain, and Sanji swiftly slammed him back-first against the wall with all the body weight to him he could muster, only to kick the asshole in the stomach again. Was he grinning _now?_

And he was. He fucking was! He raised his head and smirked Sanji full in the face. But only after coughing, hacking and spitting onto his fine dress shoe.

This shitty scum of Satan's asscrack…! Sanji felt his chest rattling with a laugh. He was dead, so. fucking. _dead!_

Sanji drove his knee into the bastard's abs once more, but the fuckface grabbed his leg again, and pushed his back against the bricks, with the edge of his palm digging hard into Sanji's chest. Shit, Sanji had that coming... He was still wearing that ugly smirk, that pile of monkey snot! Seething in pain, Sanji braced himself on the wall as best as he could, and shoved the asshole back with both legs and kicked him wherever he could reach.

The guy staggered back, and Sanji closed in on him, a roundhouse kick aimed at his head. But the shitty fartface saw through it, _damn him._ The asshole ducked away from the attack, and then, from his crouching state, he jumped forward to grab Sanji's waist to tackle him onto the ground.

They both fell down hard; Sanji first, the ugly bastard on top. Sanji's head landed mere inches away from the wall and a container. Close one…

Yuck, he had green moss all over him. And it was _breathing!_ He was getting goosebumps from his breaths on his chest… _Disgusted_ goosebumps… He had to get him off, before the mutant gorilla thought of doing the same…!

Just as the green-head raised himself up with straight arms, Sanji greeted him with a knee to his chest, then to his chin, then pushed himself off the concrete to pin the idiot down. That resulted in them both continuing to roll, though. For the guy made use of Sanji's own momentum, to push him onto his side, then on his back, forcing Sanji to drag the bastard not only with him, but back on top of him again.

_You asked for it, you rotten, fart-sniffing bastard. _Ttwo could play that game.

They kept on rolling like the most dysfunctional barrel in history. Father away from one wall and closer to the one in opposite, grappling, kicking and strangling, all the while screaming and growling at each other in the echoing alley. And when they stopped moving in a spiral, they were spinning each other around on their backs with the force of their shoving and hitting, their clothing scraping along the concrete. Sanji couldn't say how long they had been at it. He could only tell that his back was drenched in sweat, his pulse throbbed throughout his whole body and he couldn't close his mouth anymore without falling short of breath.

In a kinder universe, he would have been lying in bed after a round of rough sex, experiencing these same things. But it wasn't that bad. He had been craving a good fight for a while now. And the moment he had seen the green-haired idiot's - Zoro, was it? - stupid face, he just wanted to smash his heel into it… Well, jacking off would still have been a nice touch maybe...

Oh for fuck's shitty sake.

Just how much dancing and fighting did it take to sweat out a night's intake of alcohol? Apparently a whole lot; Sanji was still stupid in the head. As if beating each other bloody in front of the back entrance of a club with a smelly-ass neanderthal with a fake scar could be remotely arou- _amusing..._

Was it fake, though? That scar. The assface should have sweat it off long ago if it was just a cheap sharpie drawing…

Absentmindedly, Sanji moved his hand from the shithead's chest to touch his left eyelid. The guy spasmed beneath him, under the tense hold of his legs pinning him down onto the floor, and tried to inch his face away. Sanji's fingertips barely brushed over the scarred eyelid before the mossbrain turned his face to the side. There was definitely a bump. A raw patch of skin.

"Wow… It's actually real," Sanji snorted with mild bemusement.

"Huh?" The idiot turned back to show a dumb expression, his quirky angular eyebrow raised. Even his stupid face was angled; fucking pentagonal. _Pffft…_ "You thought it was fake? … Hey, what's so damn funny?"

"Basalt-head…! Overgrown with moss! Hahaha!"

Some of Sanji's laugh came out in coughs, but he just couldn't stop. He even slapped the bastard beneath him on the chest a couple times, even though he was sweaty and disgusting… Oh, the shirt with the pink crown logo was gone. Aww, too bad. _Pfffft…!_

"What the hell!" With his face red like that, the grasshead turned more into a nice and ripe tomato, and Sanji guffawed even more. He could barely hear the idiot growl, so his hands suddenly being held down came somewhat as a surprise. He moved to hit the asshole's chest again - but this time to get rid of his dirty clutches that were trying to force his arms up above his head, but were rather stretching them to the side, crossing his arms, then untangling them again due to Sanji's resistance. "You drunk bastard!" The moss-for-brains barked. And as if he had gained energy from his own voice, that smug-ass fartbreath, his arms bulged and trembled with effort as he brought the captured hands together between them. "You want more? Huh?!" He couldn't just push their hand-knot down into that ugly face, Sanji observed, grunting. Then grinning. Not without a little help.

"Shit yeah!" He yelled, then jerked forward with gusto, full against their fists. Sure, his head was pounding like fuck. But that '_oof'_ the bastard shat out of his mouth when he was smacked in the face by his own knuckles… Oh, it was so _sweet._

Sure enough, that seemed to have stopped the blockhead from trying to force him into unfriendly yoga positions. Peeling their awkwardly joined hands off his assface and finally letting go, the bastard revealed a glorious red circle around his right eye, and a satisfying red little streak leaking from his nose.

Tough when the idiot flashed a grin and poked his tongue out to lick up the blood… Sanji's head was throbbing worse by the second.

It didn't help matters that the fucking asshole punched him straight in the face, making him slam down onto his right side on the concrete. A wonder how one of his kicks could hit the mold-head's groin just as the bastard was about to hold him down. His mutant muscles weren't so tough against his legs pushing into his shoulders, however. Sanji snorted as he watched him struggle. The big green doofus looked like some frenzied ape, caught in a fence. His face fit the bill so well, too.

And then, the next miracle happened - the asshole proved to be smarter than a monkey and went to encircle Sanji's knees with his arms. Oh fuck no…! Sanji was too late with his evasive struggling. The guy had already lifted him off the ground and started spinning him, around and around and around again, throwing him back down onto the floor between the full bags of garbage lining the back of the alley. A string of vomit was hanging from Sanji's lip when he finally got a grip, on his hands and knees on the floor. What a convenient pose for the shitface to come standing in front of him to. That shitty son of a cactus…!

Sanji shifted his body weight onto his palms bracing the ground, and kicked his legs into the air to blaze in from his right to knock the fucker off his feet. Now it was the shit-eating bastard flat on the floor and Sanji pinning him down. Hah! Trying to force the guy down with his legs at his waist hadn' proved as a good strategy - he could just grab Sanji's arms and overpower him again, no matter how shitty that sounded. So what? Not as if he couldn't just crush the motherfucker's arms with his legs directly.

"Give up, Marimo head," Sanji huffed. He'd better. His stinkin' face between his legs was making him hella uncomfortable…

That proved to be a valid fear pretty soon. That heap of toenail-scum _fucking bit_ into his inner thigh! Palm-edges were really testing the limits of his stomach now, digging into his abdomen and pushing him backwards. Sanji fell back onto the mossbrain's belly. No, that wasn't it. While shifting his legs for support, something brushed against his ass…!

"What the fuck?!" The screamed out loud. Rage kicked his pulse to infinity, and he whipped his arms forward to grapple the ones threatening to throw him over again.

Pushing himself forward with his toes on the ground, Sanji gave the pisshead a run for his money, their arms shaking with effort in the middle. The green-had huffed and puffed, too, exhausted. He'd better fucking be _exhausted…!_ Fuck that smug algae-infested face of his, he was smirking straight up at him again! He was so fucking dead…

"Orraaaa!"

The bastard bellowed, pushing against Sanji's hands with a force his head might have exploded from. And it fucking worked, damn him to the lukewarm pits of hell - Sanji was losing his footing.

"Oh no, you… don't… fucker…!" He gave his all to slam the guy back onto the ground.

Sanji wasn't moving backwards anymore, but his hands were struggling not to be shot up over his head again. He even dug his fingernails into the bastard's palm, and that crazy idiot just _fucking snickered!_ What was worse, Sanji almost felt like laughing him full in his fucking mug, too.

"Haha!" And suddenly, the shithead was in his face, wheezing his fathbreath onto him like the batshit insane animal he was. No, it actually smelled of… "Gotcha now!"

Sanji's arms were straining painfully next to his ears and his shoulders felt like they would be torn off any minute. But he was grinning right back at that shitty asshole. His panting whistled through his clenched teeth. His breath tasted like puke. _Fuck it._

"Oh yeah?"

His neck jolted forward with all of his straining, and grunted when his teeth bumped against that bastard's big nose. Oh? What was that? Did that shit-eating grin just melt off the idiot's face? And on his tongue, was that…?

"Huh..." Sanji took a stinging breath.

The mossbrain should have done the same, if he had known what was good for him...

Like magic, the green-head's arms froze in place at Sanji's sides like pillars of stone. All it took was a small nip to his lips.

Sanji's head was spinning wildly, but he pushed the floaty feeling behind the hot throbbing overwhelming him. It was like being back on the dancefloor, enveloped in dark, vaporous, laser-lit haze, twisting his body to the beat of the bass, tilting his hips forth…

"Mmm..."

And back…

"Hhhf…!"

_Come on, damn you._ Sanji's tongue came peeking out from between his lips to poke at a tense upper lip. Scratchy… Nipping at it again with his lips, he licked over the chapped skin, then pinched into it with his teeth and finally the bastard's twitched open...

Sanji plunged his tongue inside. He kinda liked that small sound he evoked. It buzzed nicely on his lips…

His hands were on heated cheeks, holding the guy's head steady while he tilted his own. Deeper. He needed to get deeper… Sanji could feel the sweet taste of victory on his tongue, but it was eluding him all the time, with how the asshole's lips struggled and slapped against his. How to distract…

"Mmmf!" There were hands on his waist, pushing him back. And there were blunt nails, too, when Sanji tilted his hips forward again. "Mnnn…!"

It worked like a charm. Sanji twirled his tongue around the other man's, and he tasted the sweetness again, barely brushing against the tip of it. He sucked on the bastard's mouth, tangled their tongues more, sucked again, swallowed…

"Mmngh…!" The shithead wanted to break away? Haha, hell no. With the haze of sweat and strange perfumes flooding his senses, Sanji's body remembered dancing again; grinding, down, harder… "Aahf… Mmm...!" Like the music had, the sounds made him shudder…

Oh yes. Yes, there…!

"Mnnn… Ahhf…!"

He had it. He found it, it was just there…! One more lick, just a little suck and… Teeth came to graze his tongue, but Sanji didn't mind. Didn't care. He had it. He had him….

"Hah… Gotcha..." Sanji breathed. A smirk was tugging on his lips, and the sweetness was filling his mouth. He crewed at the gum open-mouthed. He was right. It was minty. He liked minty…

The magic began to fade as soon as he opened his eyes, though. A shock of green hair, a face flushed red and a dark eye was staring at him, with lips parted, bruised and red, glistening with blood and spit. Sanji could have… could have kissed him again. But he wanted to punch him more... He didn't feel like dancing anymore.

Hands shoving and legs scraping the ground, they scattered apart like two awkward teenagers caught kissing in mommy's backyard. Sanji snorted at that mental image. Wow, he wasn't feeling too good, though… The sweet mint was making his stomach turn, ironically.

Staggering, Sanji stood. He didn't intend to fall against the wall, but he found it not such a bad idea as soon as he was leaning against it. He heard shoe soles sliding and stomping from somewhere near him, but he didn't want to look. He didn't want to turn his head. Or he might… Urgh, shit, he needed water… He needed air… More air… He needed to…!

Sanji willed himself to walk, swallowing hard. Along the wall and around the corner, onto the street, falling against a lamp post, a tree, a stop sign… Damn, why did he forget how to teleport when he needed it most…?

His bathroom floor was pleasantly cold, but his toilet freshener twisted his nose all the more. Oh, okay, he was crawling into the shower, then. That's cool. Wait, he was still wearing his clothes. His shirt was missing. _Damn._ Well, whatever. Oh god, why were his pants sticky? Puke? No, felt like…

"Aaah..."

A little more wouldn't hurt, he supposed.

Under the cold wash of the shower, with his pants still around his ankles, Sanji stroked over his goosebumps-ridden skin. Disgusted goosebumps. Yes. He rubbed his waist where his belt had slid around while he danced, and then lower, where he had felt the tug… He was in the middle stall, with Baby-chan's perfume around him… Her cigarette in his mouth, tasting of smoke and mint… And then he was chewing gum - chewing his lips instead of the gum he had lost somewhere -, sucking, grinding against his hand, feeling nails dig into his skin… Torn, muffled moaning along his t-tongue…!

"Shit, oh shit, aaah ah shit… f-fuck!"

He had been right, after all. It really did round his night up nicely.


	2. Two Princes

**Chapter 2: "Two Princes"**

Upbeat pop songs had never been dragging on this slowly. Sunshine was streaming in through the kitchen window, all the chocolate frosted donuts and hot drinks were gone, and Vivi was humming softly along with one hit wonders of the 90's. How could anything have caught up with Nami's reeling mind and fidgety fingers?

The caffeine seemed to be kicking in. Refrains about obnoxious lemon trees, sleepy satellites and stray trains and whatnot were slipping out of her mouth, just like the brush in her hand was sliding through Vivi's long hair.

Oh, how many times they had joked about it. That Vivi's blue hair was the symbol of some kind of royal descent. Well, it certainly was more apparent than blue blood. And made her look that much more stunning, how her curls fell around her face and shoulders, contrasting against her dark skin tone and deep brown eyes…

Nami thought back to when she had first seen Vivi. The striped corset top she had been wearing had been so revealing it had been illegal. Well, according to the dress code. And the skirt Nami herself had worn hadn't been any more modest. Everyone had embarrassing stories about high school, but falling for the rival head of a girl gang should have been at least in the top ten. But after their several detention times together, the two of them had become fast friends. And more. Nefertari Vivi, the determined student, the passionate advocate of life and fun and one of the fiercest women Nami had ever known. She could have named other traits to her. However, those had to stay between the two of them and the walls of a certain dorm room…

"Have you reached a hundred strokes yet?" Vivi giggled sweetly. There was a tiny click as she put the cap back onto the nail polish bottle on the table.

"Haha, almost," Nami snorted. "I'm at sixty."

"Liar. Haven't you passed that thirty-five strokes ago?"

"Oh, so you counted?" laughing, Nami tickled Vivi's neck.

"Well, maybe~" Vivi wasn't shy to retaliate, though, flailing and swatting the naughty fingers away with the nail polish brush in her streak of sea green along the back of her hand reminded Nami just who she was messing with. Just like old times.

"Heh, you sneaky girl," she chuckled, and, ignoring the smear, she continued with the last brush-strokes. "There. One hundred. Your Majesty is ready," Nami proclaimed dramatically, then she put the brush down onto the table near the nail polish, almost daring it to spill some more on her. Wow, what was in that coffee...

"Awww, too bad," Vivi lamented. "Will you braid it for me? Pleeease?"

"Oh, all right," she feigned a tired tone, even whilst knowing Vivi wasn't fooled. They had done each other's hair at least a thousand times, and Vivi's hair was just too fun to play with. Besides, why else would Nojiko have taught her fancy braiding techniques than to doll-up the girl she loved?

That Kohza was one lucky guy. Vivi was even wearing her favourite dress to go see him, the flowy and silky pink one her father had sent her. Though, it still wouldn't make the news he was about to get any sweeter… Nami couldn't help but laugh, imagining his face.

"Could you _please_ just pretend you weren't outrageously happy about this?" Vivi sighed and turned a bit to look up at her. Nami felt like an open book to her sometimes, the way she could always see through her tough front. It was a little scary, but also amazing.

"Oh come on, don't spoil it for me," Nami teased, then gently placed her hands onto both sides of Vivi's head. "And look forward, or else your braid will get crooked."

"Okay-okay..." Vivi sighed again, but laughed all the same. Nami was a bit worried she wouldn't get to hear that sound for days. "You're so mean, you know."

"Yes, I'm aware, my dear. Now hold still, hmm?"

Vivi waved her hands in dismissal, in that funny little jazzy style that always made Nami smile, then obediently faced forward again. The strong scent of nail polish wafted up into the air again as her nails on her right hand were increasingly turning more colourful. And Nami began dividing the rivulets of blue, reveling in their softness.

Vivi was being unfair, if Nami was perfectly honest. The two of them had dated in university for a while, and even when distance had made them grow apart after that, Nami still considered them more than just friends. It was like a dagger to her chest when Vivi raised objections.

Because there was the thing with Kohza. He had always been there, lurking behind the sidelines, as Vivi's oldest friend from home. Had they gone to the same school, they might have even become high school sweethearts, winning the crown of Prom King and Queen together and cheesy stuff like that, but fortunately for Nami, she hadn't needed to witness them holding hands or kissing in the schoolyard or making photos with tiaras on their heads. No, Kohza had remained in Egypt while Vivi had moved here to study. Nami had actually never met him before.

But the two had written each other every day, for years. And with how happily Vivi talked about him, Nami had doubted her chances with her for very long. But oh, that wonderful day, at the beginning of university, when Vivi had asked her out for the first time… Nami would forever cherish that year they had had together.

However, it hadn't taken too long to notice it; the small thorn. Vivi hadn't been happy with her. Not completely. Second year had come, and Nami had at first blamed her girlfriend's decision to study abroad for a year for their breakup, but years later, it had occurred to her that there had been more. However, the time to find out what exactly that was, had been only last Friday night.

After a year of living in the same town again, Nami had admitted to Vivi that her feelings for her had been rekindled, and Vivi had seemed happy enough. But she had asked for time to think about it, leaving Nami confused. And finally, on that Friday night, Vivi had finally come out with the reason, the thorn, the obstacle.

Kohza was apparently in town. And he had confessed to Vivi as well as Nami had...

They had never screamed like that at each other, her and Vivi. Not sincerely, not aiming to really bruise… And after all of that mess, Vivi had been sitting on her favourite carpet in her living room - just outside the kitchen; Nami could peek out on it from where she was standing. Her soft, blue hair had been a mess as she had been sitting there, in tears, staring at nothing, and Nami just hadn't been able to bear it… She wanted to be old ladies together with her, the girl of her dreams. Vivi had thrown that all away.

Because she couldn't choose. That was what Vivi had said to her that night. She would have either wanted to be with them both, the three of them together; or to love neither of them. Nami had blatantly refused. And Vivi had a notion that Kohza would do the same…

In a few minutes. After Vivi would meet him in a café at the local shopping mall.

No, Vivi wasn't playing fair at all. Especially not to her own self. She could have just chosen one of them and leave the other to suffer, but instead, she wanted to take all the sadness as her own burden. And when Nami had called her out on that…

Damn, she had gotten _so_ drunk on Saturday. Those trays of beer had cost her a fortune - Sanji-kun had been too wasted to invite her… She shouldn't have made him drink so much.

And still, that bright Sunday morning, Nami had travelled the whole tramline, deathly hungover, only to get Vivi her favourite chai, from the only shop in town that had made it the Egyptian way. And donuts. A whole lot of donuts. She originally intended for Vivi to have them all, but Vivi would have had none of that. They had shared it all, like they had used to, and Vivi had finally smiled at her again, with chocolate frosting stuck on the corner of her mouth. 'I still want the words, though,' she had said, and smirked at Nami. Leaning both her arms on the kitchen table, her chin delicately placed on the backs of her hands, with her glasses dangling from her playful fingers, Vivi had never looked more beautiful.

It would be really-really difficult, Nami had realized then. To go on as if the two of them had never been a thing. But she would take the risk. If that meant that they still could remain close friends.

Lingering like the scent of coffee only Vivi could make, their words of apology were still hanging in the air. But with Vivi's humming to cheesy pop songs, their echoing was almost light-hearted, over empty ceramic and paper cups.

"There," Nami delicately draped the finished braid over Vivi's shoulder. "All done, dear princess!" She bent forward to flash Vivi a smile.

"Why thank you, sweet prince," Vivi jested, poking Nami in the shoulder. She really despised being called princess, even though she looked nothing but, jumping up, twirling in her dress and looking over her hair in her compact's mirror. And Nami could allow herself a just a little teasing, right?

"I'm glad you like it," Nami chuckled, then walked over to the coat rack to get her jacket and bag. Oh, right, there was still nail polish on her hand. Well, whatever. She would keep it; for good luck. "Ready to go, then?"

"Are you sure you want to come along?" Vivi soon followed, slipping into her ankle boots. She had worry in her eyes as she looked up at Nami; she still cared more for her than her own self, she who was about to face another possible outrage…

"Yeah, sure I do," Nami waved a hand, scoffing. "I have a delivery to make~" She emphasized with shaking the paper bag in her hand a bit.

"Ah, you're right," Vivi gave a nod, pulling on her cardigan. "Not for free, I'm guessing?"

"Oh, you're saying I'm not capable of genuine niceness? And to think I even brought you sweets!" Nami feigned a shocked expression.

"Nooo, I didn't say that!" Vivi objected just as theatrically. "I only implied you'd appreciate a tip for it."

"And not the tip of a hat, either!"

Nami clapped her beret onto her head and struck a cross-armed pose. Vivi started laughing so hard she almost sat down onto the floor, clasping her belly.

They were both still giggling while making their way downstairs in the elevator, and it made for a good base for joking around until they reached the plaza. Sanji was already there, of course, waiting in front of the central stairs. Once he saw them approach, he started waving at them so enthusiastically he might have flown away like a lovesick duck, and at these situations, Nami would have loved to hold up a sign saying 'We Don't Know This Guy'. Vivi waved back to him nervously. She didn't have to linger long - the café she was meeting Kohza at was just to the left. Squeezing her hand one more time, Nami let her go over there to drop the bomb on the guy. She patted her outer bag pocket for her phone, to make sure she didn't forget it. Even though Vivi had insisted that Kohza wouldn't get violent, Nami made her promise to text her in case of trouble…

"Nami-swaaan~!" Sanji was still flailing to get her attention. People were starting to stare; better go over to him before he embarrasses himself any more.

"Hi, Sanji-kun," Nami forced a smile onto her face as her goofy friend dramatically fell onto his knees before her. "Um, you don't need to-"

"Oh, Nami-san, my bright shining star, It's been too long!"

"Yesterday, you mean," she sighed.

Nami extended a hand towards him to help him get up. She had to _drag_ him into standing, however, since the idiot made a move to slobber a smooch onto her hand. As ugly as the guy could spit curses, his compliments were just as flowery and exaggerated, and he made sure to trill her ears full with them generously, all of it just for her patting some dust off his suit pants.

"There. Shall we go, then?" She smiled sweetly at Sanji. Well, she should have kept some of that sugar, she realized; Sanji pirouetted one circle more around her than she would have liked. She could almost see the cartoon hearts in his eyes…

"Of course, Nnnami-swan, my sweet lady~! Wherever you want to!"

It was almost comical how hard he tried to act like the suave gentleman, smiling elegantly and extending his elbow towards her. Too bad the rest of his expression looked like that of a horny old lech. There was no way Nami would allow his arms, hands, or any of his limbs near her breasts, though, so she gave Sanji's shoulder a few pats, before she walked ahead towards the central escalator. Sure enough, Sanji followed obediently - and loudly, singing serenades about the touch of her hand. Well, as long as he was happy, she guessed.

Really, Sanji was such a cute guy. Mild-mannered, bright, funny, with an exquisite taste in everything concerning food. If only a pair of boobs or a perky butt wouldn't have rendered him into a bubbling puddle of rose water smelling goo. And as the years had proven, not even the teeny-tiny little detail of her being gay could save Nami from his constant and quite fervent flirting.

But his lovefool antics had their advantages, Nami could easily admit. Why be the cliché straight couple in movies, with the boyfriend groaning and moaning about shopping, when she had a _volunteer_ to carry her bags around the mall for her all day, _and_ was ridiculously happy while doing it?

Speaking of bags, though…

"Ah, that's right! I've brought you something." She turned back towards Sanji, rustling the paper bag she was carrying.

"F-for me? Really? Oh, Nami-swan is so beautiful when she's generous! How can I ever even think that I deserve your lov-"

"It's your jacket," Nami put in. She extended the bag towards Sanji, jiggling it again to urge him to finally take it. "You left it at the club yesterday."

"Oh," Sanji managed, much more meekly.

He grabbed the bag and peeked into it, seeming almost dazed. Was he disappointed? No, it was very unlike Sanji to be unhappy about _anything_ she handed to him…

"Yesterday…" He mumbled, with the tiniest frown on his forehead. What was up with that? Had something-? "Yes, I thought I've lost it! Oh, Nami-san, I'm forever in your debt! If this goes on, I'll be your love-slave for the rest of my life~" It didn't take long for Sanji to slip back into his sappy cheering. And also, he was back at his usual spot whenever they hung out - kneeling on the floor.

"Yes-yes, I've saved you from a fashion disaster," Nami sighed again. Hey, she had been the one who picked that jacket out for him. She didn't dare to imagine Sanji's suit combined with that faded, barely blue denim jacket with red and black checked lining he had tucked under his elbow.

How could he stand wearing a suit every day, Nami would never know. Still several times better than his usual choice of casual clothing. Somehow, when not in suit-and tie, Sanji always managed to look as if he had dressed in the dark, despite the fact that Nami had tried again and again to help him choose casual outfits. The guy's fashion sense was just so much below zero that she had given up at one point. Why all the stress when she could just as easily fan the flames and have a good laugh each time he stepped out of the changing room? It was his style, she supposed.

"Nami-swaaan, were you worried about me~?"

"Yes-yes," she waved the gushing off. This guy's selective hearing was incredible. Kind of pathetic, too, to be honest, but still, Nami could never cease to be amazed by it. "Of course."

"Really?! Oh, I'm the luckiest man alive!"

Sure enough, Sanji did stand up at that. But he immediately proceeded to twirl around and hug himself, giggling with glee. People were starting to give the poor sod looks again...

Well, in truth, Vivi had been the one voicing worries. What a gentle soul, afraid that Sanji could have caught a cold without his jacket in the middle of the night. But Nami had reassured her; idiots didn't catch colds.

"Okay, Mr. Luckiest. Let's go," she chuckled and waved for Sanji to come along. He was clearly having fun. Why spoil it?

"Coming, my queen~!"

The shopping mall was all hers. Sweet-sweet payday had finally come at the end of the week, and Nami was very tempted to squander a great chunk of it. After doing most of the cartographing work for the university's new history atlas, she sure as hell deserved that drop-dead gorgeous dress she had been having her eyes on for weeks. It would be perfect for Luffy's birthday party in May. A short cocktail dress tailored from red silk, with a cleavage that was elegantly showy, but also had enough hold in case she needed to start running. It would be Luffy's party, after all; something was bound to go to hell. And Nami wasn't about to be caught tangled in a long skirt when it happened.

She was pretty sure Luffy wouldn't give a damn about her dress, and she was even more certain she didn't care. Nami dressed to impress, no matter the occasion. And right now, she just wanted to try that dress on, look herself over in the mirror and be happy about her reflection, for her own sake.

And while she was at it, she could look for something to wear for Usopp's surprise party. Good thing she remembered; she would need to find something plaid for that. Everyone attending would.

See, she and Usopp made a bet about who could rock the all-time biggest gross-lumberjack-lesbian-trash article of clothing better, so that was what they agreed wear to the arcade. Usopp was about the only one she could talk fashion about. Well, aside from Sanji, maybe, but in his case it was just damage prevention. And since Usopp had no idea that their gaming hang-out next week was actually going to be his surprise birthday party, Nami couldn't wait to see his face when the others showed up at the arcade, too, all-in-plaid. Luffy, Sanji and Chopper for sure, his best friends from high school, and then some colleagues, that Franky guy from the garage and Zoro from the club… Not Robin, she had to work. Too bad.

She would make all the photos. All of them. Then shove them onto ten different servers all over the planet and bribe everyone with them when the right time came.

"Oh, Sanji-kun! Did you get a plaid shirt for Usopp's party yet?" she turned back towards Sanji, handing him the newest shopping bag.

Poor thing looked very much in pain - probably more hungover than he had ever been. He even had a broken lip, and a few dark spots were peeking out from under his collar and sleeves here and there. Nami heard him groaning now and again while walking around in shops. _Someone_ had a rough night alright. However, he instantly became chipper again when he noticed her talking to him.

"Yes, Nami-swan~" he exclaimed happily, wriggling the layers of bags he was carrying for her. Oh boy. Nami would get a nice clean shot of what kind of fashion disaster Sanji had found on his own.

And while at the subject of shots and embarrassment…

Nami giggled into her milkshake, remembering. The guy behind the counter flashed her a smile, probably thinking she laughed at some lame joke he told. He got so distracted, he even spilled some of Sanji's milkshake while staring at her breasts, and Sanji almost spoiled it all with going into blind, and utterly unjustified, rage... Well, no biggie. She caught Sanji's hand fast enough to melt him into slobber again, and the schmuck still gave them a discount. All was good.

"Hey, Sanji-kun," she was still smiling when they sat down at a free table by the mall's food court.

"Yes, my angel~?"

"Where did you disappear to yesterday?" Nami swirled her drink with her straw, ever so slowly. She gave Sanji a look of wonder and slight sadness to try and mess with him a little, but in truth, she was barely keeping her laughter down. "You said you'd go to the bathroom, but you never came back to our table."

"The, um… The bathroom, Nami-san…?" Sanji stared back at her confused, then cleared his throat. He looked positively uncomfortable. But was it the discomfort of knowledge, or that of ignorance…?

"Oh, you _know,_" Nami chuckled. "Zombie Night? Shakky-san and Keimi-chan? Ring a bell?" She dearly hoped not the whole night had eluded him.

"Yes, yes of course! How could I forget?!"

Sanji replied so hastily that his straw got caught in his lower lip as he yanked his head up, then it dropped onto the table, spilling some shake onto his tie. He fumbled for a handkerchief, mumbling incoherently. He looked like he wanted to boil over with embarrassment, face red and hands twitchy. Some weird sense of chivalry prevented him from cursing like a grog-packed sailor in front of her, and that just made his struggle more amusing.

"It's just that, um, after…" When he finally found his kerchief, he started rubbing it against his tie so roughly it could have torn. "After a while, things just got blurry. Last night. Uh..." When he was done crumpling his upper clothing, his hand moved automatically to wipe his face in his nervousness. That resulted in him successfully smearing some sticky white shake onto his face; his face he was trying so hard to get to look straight. Oh, this was getting good...

"After the beers arrived, you mean," Nami calmly sipped some of her milkshake.

"Ah, yes, probably, ahhaha," Sanji replied with a strained laugh. "Nobody can stand a chance against you when it comes to drinking, my queen~"

"So you don't remember anything?" Nami pressed on, and leaned in closer. Her cleavage on top of the table made Sanji stir in his seat, and gripped down on his forgotten handkerchief hard. Just as planned. "Anything at all?"

"I… I don't know. I had some weird dreams last night, a-and I can't decide what's what anymore," Sanji averted his gaze, like a little boy that had just broken the family china vase to splinters. "I'm so sorry..."

Aww, he was taking this way too seriously. Nami almost thought better of the whole teasing thing, seeing that guilty little face of his.

Nah.

"Oh, that's too bad, Sanji-kun, you've really missed out," she tilted her head, smiling honey-sweet.

Sanji blinked awkwardly at that, then the corners of his mouth twitched upward a little, before his tiny smile immediately withered, along with the colour in his cheeks. His face was a picture of confusion, dread and just a tiny bit of hope. Perfect.

"Really? W-why, what…?"

"I didn't realize you had a side like that to you. Like, wow," Nami lifted her palms and spread them along the table surface in a gesture of amazement. "It was amazing."

"N-Nami-san..." he could barely croak. The table shook under his fists, so tense he might have exploded.

"Oh, wait," Nami feigned surprise, then reached for Sanji's hand with a smile… Then she tugged the handkerchief from his clammy grip. "You have a little something, right here..." The dried-up milkshake stain came off rather easily, with how sweaty the kerchief was. She had to stand up and lean over the table to reach Sanji's face, though, and the degree of which his eyes bulged out to stare at her breasts was like a countdown.

Three. Two. One.

Nami expected the nosebleed, of course; she was aiming for it. She somewhere hoped it would serve to calm him down. However, she could not foresee the _fountain_ of blood that started pouring out of Sanji's nose, all over the table, their trays and the milkshake cups… Well, she won't be drinking that anymore. Thankfully, the blood stayed off her. She had already become an expert how to dodge spontaneous bloodflow, from noses and various other places. She knew her friends well.

"Sanji-kun, are you okay?!"

She was the scared one now, standing by Sanji's right side and squishing the handkerchief against his nose to stop the bleeding. She wanted to mess with him, sure, but not bleed him to death!

"Ahahahaha..." some creepy laughter left Sanji's mouth as his head fell back. Yeah, he would be fine.

"You like living dangerously, don't you?" Nami sighed exasperatedly. She held the back of Sanji's head up until he came to his senses again, fumbling to hold the handkerchief and apply pressure himself. "You really should get this checked..."

"Ohg, Dabi-sab, you're do dweet do wowwy..." he mumbled, then coughed while trying to breathe through his nose. Nami had to chuckle. What an idiot.

When Sanji was well enough to start cleaning up his face, Nami went to fetch a soda cup full of water and some paper towels, and to pacify bystanders and security people that the situation was under control. Really, she was such an awesome friend. She deserved a gold plaquette or something to commemorate this day.

Sanji managed to make himself look like he had been punched in the nose with how messily he tried to rub the blood off his face. Setting the First Aid Kit For Perverted Idiots, aka the cup of water and towels, down, Nami snorted, and squatted down next to Sanji to help wipe his face with a damp paper towel. Sometimes, when contemplating why she exposed herself to this farce, Nami thought about how Sanji felt like the little brother to her she had never had. A clumsy, perverted little brother who wanted to bury his face in her boobs, but oh well. No sibling was perfect.

"Say, Sanji-kun," Nami glanced over at him, moving over to wipe the table. "Just now, you thought we did something indecent yesterday, didn't you? You and me."

From how Sanji wheezed for air, Nami expected another avalanche of hemoglobin. He really should consider dating a nurse…

"No! No, of course not! No way! Heavens no, Nami-san!" Sanji all but shrieked, and dropped every wet and bloody glob of paper to seize both her hands, squeezing hard. "I swear to you, on my honor as a gentleman, I would never…!"

"Err... You're hands are still bloody..."

"Holy ssshoot, I'm so sorry!" He panicked again, grabbing a fistful from the stack of paper towels to wipe her fingers. Or shred, more like. Thankfully, his blood stayed in his nose this time.

"Hey-hey, careful, leave some skin on, okay?"

Nami laughed and pried her hands away from Sanji's fervently rubbing ones. He was staring at their hands apologetically, letting her get rid of all the red on his fingers, then she squeezed a clean towel into them, ordering him to get the drops of blood off his pants. She wanted to pat his head. Sanji looked like a guilty little puppy, papping the lumps of paper against his clothes.

"You know..." she spoke up again, dumping another stained paper ball onto the pile of others on their stacked trays. "I actually don't know much about what you did yesterday, either. I only saw you dancing. Later, when I went looking for Keimi-chan." She admitted. Maybe that was enough teasing for one day...

"What? I was dancing?" Sanji looked at her, his hand halfway down the cup of water.

"Oh, absolutely!" Nami nodded, wiped her hands clean, and patted Sanji on the shoulder. "You were really popular, too- Oh yeah!" she exclaimed and clapped her hands together. "Wait a sec."

Nami then stepped back to her chair where she had left her bag. She rummaged around in all the pockets where she knew exactly she wouldn't find her phone, purely for suspense's sake. The small tap-tapping of Sanji's shoes confirmed that she piqued his curiosity.

Yes-yes, she had decided to let the teasing slide - and she would, she promised! Just one more little thing...

"I made pictures!" Nami announced with a smile, shaking her phone in her hand. "It should be riiight… Here!" She started tapping in its screen as she walked back to stand next to Sanji, then leaned down to let him see. She didn't dare give the phone to him. She wasn't planning on replacing it just yet, thank you very much.

Sanji bent forward to get a closer look. He craned his neck, even tilted the bottom of the phone up with his fingers to have a better view, but still seemed utterly confused.

"Nami-san," he looked at her with a wry little smile, "who are these um… people?"

"What do you mean? You don't know them, Sanji-kun?"

"No," Sanji declared firmly. He shook his head so fervently that it might have screwed off his neck like a light bulb. "No way."

"I don't know… Are you sure? I mean, you were with them for hours, so I thought they were, you know. Your friends," Nami shrugged, blinking innocently. "Look, you seem really close on this one," she insisted, swiping to the next image.

"Ah, wait, I think you've scrolled past it," Sanji cut in, trying to swipe backwards on the screen, but when he seemed to recognize the picture Nami had shown him first, he flipped back. "I… Nami-san, are you sure I'm in this one?" He frowned.

"Hmm? But you're right there," Nami pointed towards the middle of the photo. "Well, it's kinda blurry… Wait, I think I have a- Yes, this one," she flipped to a photo similar to the last one, but perhaps a bit more in-focus.

Well, it was pretty hard to make good pictures of a dancing crowd in general, and these okama had sure known how to crank it up. Nami had barely been able to score some decent shots of them, even though there had been a whole throng of them, practically taking over the dancefloor; because when they hadn't been dancing arm-in-arm, they were hugging and jumping around. But really, Sanji was still sticking out like a sore thumb in the photo. He was the only one wearing pants…

"No. No, that can't be me, they're… He's… He's wearing lipstick! See? I would never wear lipstick," Sanji tried to explain, but his eyes full of shock and his words full of strained laughter weren't exactly convincing.

"Awww, but you were wearing your new blue pants!" Nami complained with a faked pout. "The one we bought together, with the rhinestones! Remember? That's definitely it, there!" she insisted. It would have been quite surprising if anyone else had worn a pair of pants as ridiculous as that one, after all. To prove her point, she began showing Sanji the rest of the pictures she had taken. All of them. "Look, there you are again. Aww, kissing your friend on the cheek, so cute. Oh, you like that shirt, don't you? I think that guy behind you does, too… Oh, who's that girl? Is that glitter in her hair or is it... your nails?"

"I thought… You painted my nails, Nami-san…?" Sanji barely managed to mumble.

His hands formed strained fists on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his suit pants so hard he might have put holes in it. Exactly why Nami hadn't handed him her phone…

"No, not me," she shook her head. Oh please, she didn't do _glitter_. And aside from her, there had been nobody at their table who could have done it. Shakky-san wasn't the type to paint nails to begin with, and Keimi-chan had been too busy vomiting all over the ladies' room floor to be painting anyone's nails pretty and pink. "I'm guessing it was one of your new frie-"

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!"

Nami almost plopped down onto the floor from the zest with which Sanji jumped up from his chair, screaming and tearing his hair. The paper cup tipped over from his sudden rise, and the leftover water spilled out over the table, dribbling down onto the floor. Oh great.

"Sanji-kun!" Nami got to her feet, placing a hand onto Sanji's arm. "Sanji-kun, calm down! What's wrong?!"

"Aaaaah, what have I done? What have I done?!" He started hitting his head with his fists.

"Okay, that's enough! Sanji-kun, get yourself together!" Nami shook him to make him stop, and when that didn't help, she tried to grab a hold of his wrists instead. "We're going to be thrown out of here! Come on!"

"Aaaaahhh, nooo, this is the woooorst!"

Sanji just kept howling and wailing, and Nami was pretty sure the whole plaza was looking at them. Oh, for crying out loud… It was just ridiculous. She hadn't signed up to hang out with a five-year-old, for God's sake! She really wished she didn't have to hit him over the head with her best punch to make him stop…

In any case, it worked like a charm. Sanji slumped back down into his seat, and his screaming was replaced by his quiet, shaky sobbing.

"Nami-san..." he whimpered. "Forgive me, Nami-san… I'm a disgrace…!"

"No, you're not. Now stop crying like a baby," Nami pulled her chair up next to his, and stuffed a paper towel into his hand. "You just had a lot to drink, that's all."

"But I… I…!" Sanji just kept bawling, squeezing the tissue hard against his eyes, before he blew his nose loudly. "Do you… Do you think I was drugged…?"

"I don't think so. You'd feel worse off, believe me."

"B-but then why would I…?" Sanji sniffled.

"Oh, come now," Nami sighed, patting his back. "So you wore make-up and danced with some guys and um… sort-of guys at a club. So what? You didn't hurt anybody," she offered, "or, well, I hope," she ended up adding, glancing at Sanji's bruised lip.

"Ughhh…!" he rubbed the moist paper sheet against his eyes again. Maybe he would calm down now...

"Sanji-kun… You know that there's nothing wrong with being-"

"No!" Sanji wheezed, and the paper towel tore to pieces in his trembling, tense hands. "No no no! I'm not gay! I'm not! No fucking way!"

His outraged shout was followed by tense silence. Everyone sitting at the food court was looking at them, and the happy mall music sounded even more forced than usual. Nami berated herself. How could she think Sanji would ever relax?

"Yes, I know that," she grumbled, at the end of her patience. That was not what she was going to say, but she thought it better to just drop the subject. Sanji obviously wasn't ready for that kind of talk. And frankly, why should it be her to have to get him out of the closet? "And now everybody else knows, too, so just take it easy, okay? Here, there's one more," she offered him the last paper tissue that wasn't hit by the water on the table.

"I'm… I'm sorry..." he muttered as he wiped his nose with it. "Nami-san, I-I didn't mean to...I mean, you-"

"No, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it like that," she waved off his concerns. Nami had been over her denial phase long ago, way back in high school; she knew the frustration of it very well. So he did remember if he really wanted to, didn't he? Sanji could be such a dork sometimes…

"Oh, Nami-san, what do I do..." Sanji went back to crying, his face against the tabletop.

"Come on," Nami stood and offered Sanji a hand. "We should go. I know just the thing you need."

"N-Nami-san, y-you don't mean…!"

From the red hue of his face, Nami had a good guess what was going on in that weird-wired mind of his. She suddenly felt like eating a whole box of chocolate. After this? It was the least…

"Careful, you'll bleed your brain out of your nose," she scolded, then had enough of stalling and simply yanked Sanji up into standing.

"Y-yes, Nami-swan!" he produced a shaky smile. What do you know. His pervert-aura was getting him back onto his feet. "Lead the way, my queen!"

And just like that, he was back to being an irritating puppy dog. Well, couldn't be helped. Nami chuckled, gathered up the mess off the table, grabbed her bag and headed out of the food court between the tables. Plastic bags were rustling in her wake as Sanji followed. And Nami couldn't help but smile.

A small bell chimed as Nami pushed the door open, and the smell of old paper and tobacco welcomed her inside the small liquor store of the shopping mall. Sanji was less enthusiastic about entering. He pushed the door closed behind himself without a word, though, however hesitantly. Nami made her way to the shelves packed with brandy right away, and Sanji followed, a step or so behind her.

"Nami-san… I'm not sure this is such a good idea..."

"Of course it's a good idea," Nami objected, examining the label of the bottle he had just lifted from the shelf. "Hair of the dog, isn't that right? Besides, I've run out. And you owe me."

"Y-yes, my generous, loving angel," he sighed, defeated.

Nami was humming a tune as she waited in line at the cash desk. _Marry him or marry me…_ She shifted the bottle into her other arm and fished her phone out. Already seven. No new messages.

She was thinking about Vivi, chuckling into an ornate teacup, sitting in opposite of her dashing young prince from Egypt… She scoffed and reached for one of the stack of toffee boxes piled up near the counter. Maybe she could convince Sanji to make her ice cream, too.

Just as Nami was about to turn to him to ask him of the matter, Sanji opened her mouth before she did. He opened it wide, in a horrified shriek. He raised his arm to point a stern finger at the man next in line to pay - a tall, stocky guy, with his shopping basket filled with bottles of cheap booze, and green hair peeking out from under his baseball cap…

There was no mistaking it.

"Hey, Zo-!"

"YOU!" Sanji began yelling again. "You fucking asshole!"

"What the hell?" Zoro called out as he turned, and when he was face-to-face with Sanji, his glare turned into a frowning grimace of shock. "You again?!" His cold stare wandered from Sanji onto Nami then, where it molded into something questioning, one eyebrow raised. Nami could only shrug in response, quite surprised herself. When had these two met…?

"You dare show your face, you slimy green pile of apeshit?!"

"Look who's talking, you curly freak!" Zoro picked up Sanji's volume as quick as that.

"I've kicked your ass once before, and I can do it again!" Sanji barked and closed his accusing finger with the rest into his fist, right before he held up both knuckles and darted out his middle fingers instead.

"The hell you have!" Zoro slammed his basket down onto the counter in front of a rather frightened shop owner - a big fellow like him could barely hide behind the counter, holding onto the white bear-eared hat on his head and muttering apologies. "_I _beat you to a pulp! Or were you so piss-drunk that you forgot, you glittery punk?"

"_What_ did you just call me?!"

Oh boy. Nami realized just what she had _not_ been missing from this day. And the winner of that special place was a spontaneous brawl in the middle of the liquor store between two boneheads she had the misfortune of knowing. How had they not found each other before? Aside from the obvious reason of Zoro moving to town much later than Sanji - but that was boring. An idiocy to this degree should have had some sort of magnetic force, Nami was convinced, and very disappointed…

"Well, I won't be getting any ice cream today..." she sighed wistfully

Putting the brandy bottle down onto the counter, Nami leaned her back against it, playing along with the role of the bored spectator. While she was at it, she popped the toffee box open and offered the shivering shopkeep behind her some.

This would take a while.


	3. Heads Will Roll

A/N: Know your voice actor. Kazuki Yao. Look him up, it's important. *winku*

* * *

**Chapter 3: "Heads Will Roll"**

"Aren't you going to be cold like that, you guys? This place is air-conditioned."

The changing room was relatively empty. Most of the candidates that were up before the break belonged to one large group, and with them performing on stage now, there were just four of them left there - Kiwi, Mozu, Franky himself and another dude in who had just voiced the question. Along with plenty of room to get ready. For fixing hairdos, trying on speedos, practicing the hottest moves for the talent show… You know, the usual.

"Aren't you going to trip with a pair of flamingos attached to your shoes?" Kiwi stopped tying her beach cloth around her waist to give the guy in the fur-lined pink cape a look.

"And then you'll roll off stage," Mozu added, "on that ball you're wearing as pants, waina."

"Haha, exactly, waina!"

Wasn't their fault that the three of them were the only ones awesome enough to wear swimsuits to dance in. They hadn't chosen the super, the super had chosen them. Besides, what else was there to wear with a cool pair of shades than a smooth hawaiian shirt and no pants to show off those cheeks? OW!

"They're swans! Pretty-pretty swans!" the dude protested, jumped up, and proceeded to point one of his super fancy shoes towards them. Was he crying? Super lame! "You guys are so mean! Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful!" Raising his arms above his head, he started spinning around with angry gusto.

"Hehe," Mozu pointed an index finger at the ballerina dude, and then the other on she darted towards Franky. "You sounded like Franky bro just now, waina!"

"Just like him, waina!" exclaimed Kiwi, also pointing fingers.

"Stop joking around!" the pink guy stopped spinning. "You're kidding me, right?!" he pointed a swan-shoe at the three of them, one at a time. "Un, deux, trois! _You_, and _you_, compare me to _him?!"_

"No, man, no way!" Franky decided that the best idea was to point all of his fingers at everyone. "I never cry, dammit! And that pose is so not super! Bet he can't do this!"

It was time to reveal his secret weapon. From his shirt pocket, Franky fabulously pulled out his faithful sidekick - his handy comb! OW! He tapped his right foot on the ground. _One, two, three…! _To get into the groove, yanno. Comb-flip, comp-flip, from the right to the left, now do it again, OW! And when the beat took hold of his legs, the time was ripe to engage the thrusters! Hip-twisting, booty-shaking, outta this world!

"Wooooo, Franky bro!" Mozu and Kiwi were pros and nothing but - they took on their position at his sides like it was nothing, doing the booty boogie, one thousand percent!

But what was that? The swan dude was mimicking him. OW, how could his hips tilt so bombastically, and how could he wave his hand to the right and the left like it was nobody's business?! It was perfect, and he wore makeup, no shades and ball-pants! Impossible!

Franky realized he needed to up his game. No way anyone could beat his beat - ahaha, get it -, and then put him into a funk right before his show!

"Check it!"

Shaking his buns from side to side, he was waving his arms in the air like the coolest bro in the brotherhood. Which was super true!

"OW, gettin' down!" he warned against the unstoppable tide of superfly. Combing from the left, combing from the right, he put that butt out there while bending down, super-combing through his mohawk up into edgy electric level, yo!

He thrust that hip in there, rolled his top gear torso up straight, and BAM, time for the signature move! Mozu and Kiwi knew what was up. They stepped in sync, rolling those arms like this dance was their last, preparing for launch!

Franky took a smashing stomp forward, stretching his arms together to make 'em see stars - tattooed onto his arms! OW! His hair was so fresh he could barely contain it!

"SUUUPER!" He was killin' it!

"SUUUPER!" echoed the pink dude on top of his lungs, how it's supposed to be done! Naw man, no, that couldn't be! Even his stance was the same!

Had SUPER Franky finally met his match? Had the unbeaten general of the dance floor been defeated?!

Sticking his comb down his swimpants like a rifle, Franky balled his fists and strutted over to the pink dude. Halfway there, it occurred to him that his comb might not be in the most super place, but he stayed cool as a frosty cucumber while he slipped it up into his shirt pocket. Phew, super smooth. Had he had any guns on his invisible waistband, he would have fingered - not _that _way - their grip, but snapping his speedos to place on his butt was just as awesome. OW! That actually hurt, owowow...

They started each other down for a long moment, cool macho sparks flying between them. Franky was the one to make the first move…

"Listen here, bro..." He slowly raised his shades. "That was SUPER radical!"

"WHAAAT?!" the guy hollered back, wide-eyed and flailing. Super enthusiasm! Franky approved.

"Cool moves, bro! Respect!" he moved in for a fierce handshake, and they both started laughing loudly. And suddenly, the overwhelming waves of pure bromance were overflowing in his chest, and… "Aw hell, gimme a hug!" Franky called out, pulling the swan-dude in a fierce embrace. "Why do we have to be rivals?!" he was definitely not crying, dammit! "The world is so cruel!"

"So touching waina…!" Mozu and Kiwi were in tears behind them.

"But…!" the dude sniffled. "But we're not rivals! I'm not competing, I'm in the special act!"

"Really? OW, thank God!"

Due to the tension lifting, Franky was sweating out of his eyes so hard he couldn't even see. The pink bro was just as sweaty in the face, his make-up all over the place.

"Thank God!" the guy echoed Franky's words. "That fight would have broken my heart!"

"This is friendship waina!" Kiwi sobbed uncontrollably.

"So beautiful wainaaa…!" Mozu agreed, leaning onto Kiwi's shoulder and wiping her eyes under her goggles. When she was done, Kiwi reached over for the handkerchief to rub her own eyes dry.

"What's your name, dude?" Franky clapped the guy on the upper arm - wouldn't wanna flatten the fab fur on his cape. "I'm Frrrrranky!" he busted out his signature star to honor this moment.

"They call me," came the reply, along with a flashy pirouette, in just the right angle to match Franky's stance. "Bon Clay! Un, deux, trois!"

"OW! Bon bro! We should do this again!"

Just as they both struck their cool poses, in came one of the organizers through the door - a skinny-looking dude with a number three on his head. Wait, was that his hairdo? Three for 'three stars' or three for 'third grade'?

"Hey Bentham, your _girls_ are here!" he called, then stopped to stare at them in the door. He must have been awestruck, and probably needed a second to take in all the SUPER. "And your friends are up in about thirty," he added, pointing at them, then towards the corridor. OW, what fierce willpower, to put on a straight face after witnessing so much awesome in one room! Franky really couldn't blame him for fleeing as fast as he did. The force of sheer coolness was unstoppable.

Phew. Being part of the most epic scene in bromance history sure took a lot out of a bro. Even the coolest bro there was. And there was just one thing to do in this situation. To the vending machine! Who knew, maybe the very one there in the city library actually had his favourite flavour. If its auditorium was this super, why not the cola supply?

OW crap! He had his small change in his other speedos! He had super forgotten!

Franky made use of his incredible insight of the premises to figure out the shortest way back. He needed his cola fill. Kiwi and Mozu couldn't see him less than badass during practice. Sure, they were the hottest stuff in da house even without going over their moves again, but they had a tough crowd. If Franky's touching and deep ballad on his ukulele had not been able to get through to the audience, they hearts must have been made of cold-cold stone, so they would have to give it all of their fresh summer spirits to capture them, and never-ever let them go.

Crossing the west-wing reading room would have been the quickest, if only it wasn't locked all the- OW wait, the door actually yielded!

Just as Franky was about to swing it open with his strong right, a sound was picked up by his super hearing. A low humming seeped out from within the reading room. It was so low, so haunting that he felt the hairs on his legs stand on electric edge, but also so earnest, so sweet that it could have melted even the most steeled heart… Was it an angel?

"_Off… Off… Off with your head..."_

Or... Was it a ghost…?

There was nothing to do about it. Franky just had to enter super smoothly, no prob. Disturbing a spectre superstar during rehearsal would have not have been just rude, but super rude, yo!

Slowly, very slowly pushing the door open, Franky felt almost more startled to see an actual person inside than a see-through figure. She almost looked the part, though, with her black hair and a dress that could have been black as well, but it's dark purple hue couldn't escape Franky's super sight. She was in the process of piling books onto her arm from a roll-cart, probably to take them back to the shelves. And even though it was Franky who had snuck into the room, it was him who got spooked to the max by her when she turned around…

Oh, it was her! Nico Robin. She had introduced herself a hundred times before as the host of the library's quarterly talent show. She had applauded him during his ukulele performance of 'Last Christmas', and Franky wasn't one to forget a fan! Why was she organizing books, though?

Utterly undisturbed by his presence, Nico Robin gave Franky a smile, as if she had known he had come in long ago; as if she had anticipated him even considering crossing the room. An enigmatic smile that made him lose his cool composure - almost. OW, but she had stopped humming…

"I was wondering… Aren't you cold like that?" she posed him a question while stepping past him to one of the shelves. Her walk had a certain super slippery stealth-ninja style to it - but she could pull that off in high heels. "The floor is marble, and you're barefoot. It would be absolutely awful if you happened to catch a fatal disease and die on stage..."

Holy star-spangled whackamole! She was SUPER scary! OW!

"S-sweet of you to worry, but there ain't a thing that could bring me down! I'm in SUPER shape!" he countered the chilly goosebumps with his coup de amazing adrenaline! SUPERstar stance!

"I can see that." And judging by how Nico Robin started chuckling at his awesome pose, it was SUPER effective!

"Why are you putting those away?" Franky asked, turning after Robin as she made her way back to the cart. "Aren't you s'posed to be the show host or something?"

"Why yes," she replied. The delicacy with which she lifted up the tomes one by one made it seem like each one was a treasure. Super touching! "However, I also work here as a researcher. I represent the library while hosting its events, so to say." So she had a voice silky soft, edgy humour, sported the smarts, and was a babe, too! OW, killer assets!

"And why don't _you_ compete, Nico Robin?"

OW, what was he saying?! She stopped smiling! Him and his super blabbermouth!

"Being on stage..." Nico Robin started slowly, staring down at the books bundled in her arms. "It's embarrassing," she declared, looking Franky sternly in the eye. OW, he had done it now, she was mad…! Maybe she was a wight, after all?! "I would never do it."

"I… I see…" Franky felt like he had been smashed in the head by a giant iron fist. Even his 'do flopped! "I'm super sorry-"

"And..." suddenly, she continued. "I am an archaeologist. Not a singer. Not a particularly… spirited one, I have been told."

"Sis, are you serious? I couldn't decide if you were an angel or a ghost when I heard you sing just now!"

"Well, your description is accurate, I guess. Mostly, my voice merely inspires something dark, something shocking… That is not what the crowd comes here for, is it? The auditorium is better off without hearing me sing," she explained, with a smile so warm, so determined that Franky felt his heart breaking into super small smithereens…

"But.. You still can't give it up, right?" Franky decided to take on all the wrath an angelic wight could muster. Nobody would be so ice cold to themselves while the keeper of the fresh fire of hope was around! "'cause it's super persistent. It just breaks out of you whatever you do! And the more you fight it, the harder it punches you in the gut, yeah? But it shouldn't be this way, I mean… If you take the chance, you could make this into a blessing instead of a curse!"

He took his sunglasses off. His super positive energies needed to reach her at all costs, and not even his coolest pair of shades could stand in the way! Maybe he could never touch the hearts of a crowd of people, but he _had_ to get through to her! Dreams were at stake here, yo!

"I say, better flaunt than let it haunt! Nobody deserves to feel this way. Don't ever think that!"

There was a long moment of silence, where everything stayed super still. Outside, the noise started to gather, footsteps and the chatter of people echoed through the halls, but Franky's supersonic sense could only feel the red hot vibes of 'bring it on' and 'this better be good'.

OW no! He had super forgotten about his cola! And practice!

"Oh my," Nico Robin's voice grabbed his attention. "It sounds like the break is over."

Her mysterious little smile was back by the time he laid eyes on her again. Was it warm? Sad? Or mocking? This dame was harder to untangle than a whole cabinet full of totally tangled wires!

"We ought to head back," she said, and leaned to the cart to place the pile of books she was holding back onto it.

"Y-yeah, uh, we're next an all that jazz..."

"You should take that exit to the changing rooms. It's much faster," she advised.

Nico Robin pointed towards the door at the back of the room, while she herself began walking towards the one Franky had come in through a couple of minutes ago. Franky had been planning to take that shortcut in the first place, but at least he now knew it was surely not locked. However, his feet wouldn't move just yet, super squirmy as they were. Cuz the still had unfinished business! OW!

"Yo! Nico Robin!" Called out after her, just as he had passed him by, making her turn back to face him.

"Yes?"

"Keep practising!" Franky stretched out his hand to give her the most top secret super attack his Weapons Left could muster - the Thumbs-up of Titanium Will! "I wanna hear you sing again, no matter what!"

"Well… All you have to do is sneak up on me again in a quiet library hall, isn't it?"

Nico Robin raised a soft hand to her lips as she chuckled. Franky honestly didn't have the right gearing in his head to figure out why anyone would feel all doom and gloom from hearing her voice; rather than 'something dark', all her voice instilled in him was the warmth and strength of the super shiny summer sun! Wasn't that the kind of awesome all the people in the audience were there for? The super everyone needed in their lives?

Forget practice. Hell, forget cola, even! Franky didn't need none of those to win this thing. Instead of an angel or a ghost in the library, he had found a _muse!_ SUPER squared!

"Franky-san," she spoke up again.

There was something in the way she stepped closer to him; still gracefully mysterious, but kinda different from a ninja's cucumber-cool stealth. The way she swayed, it carried more… Mischief. Yeah, that's the word! That's the…! Hey, wait, wasn't she coming kind of… close? OW, good thing Franky put his shades back on! He would get a… uh, a sunburn. Yeah.

"Wait a second, Franky-san. You might not want to go yet," Nico Robin murmurred, and…

What?! She was staring down at his Love Gun! He wouldn't imagine something like that, no way! What was going on?! He took a step back, and OW, the tiles felt super cold under his feet now! But she just followed after, and raised her hand up towards the middle and she…! She…!

There was a small, but sharp snap. OW!

"There," she announced, with a pleased smile.

Franky's speedos were now neatly tucked over his most private storage of grenades. She had seen…! And… she had… t-touched…!

"Much better. I doubt you were planning for your act to be this… revealing." she turned around again, as if nothing had happened. "So then, see you on stage~"

Soon, the door fell closed behind Nico Robin. Its echo was only disturbed by Franky's incoherent…

"Hubba hubba humina humina..."

…uh, SUPER thought-processing! He did a lot of super difficult hyper tactical strategical uh… thinking! He wasn't some kind of empty-headed set of six-packs!

By the time Franky got backstage, Kiwi and Mozu were already in front of the audience with the starting moves of their killer hit number. Franky saw the chance, and he took it. He started to dash again, and slid into the middle like the flyest guy in for the pie! The act couldn't have gone more perfectly from that point on. Mozu and Kiwi's supersonic robot dance was da bomb, the Egyptian swing trumped the Giza Pyramid as a world wonder, and Franky rediscovered his love for shakin' that booty again, for the hundredth time! Oh yeah, kids nowadays call that twerking. Yeah, werk that twerk!

All in all, it had been meant to be super sexy, but they had cranked the heat up so much that the whole thing was beach joggin', monokini poppin', sunscreen smearing SUPER sizzling HOT! If Franky may have said so himself.

It was not such a big surprise, though. His muse was a pervert! Best kind! OW!

So what if some deep-frozen soggy shrimps had decided to come to the talent show? As long his new friend Bon bro cheered for them instead of two, or two hundred! As long as Nico Robin still applauded them from backstage! As long as kids were doing the SUPER pose with him in the front rows! Those kiddos were the future yo!

Bon bro had made him promise to be back on time for the intermission show. And he would, he so super would! But who would have foreseen with an even keener sixth sense than the coolest cyborg to ever cyborg that the vending machine had so many types of cola in it?! Yo, no way he would take the one mixed with veggie juice, but the earl grey flavoured one looked smoother than a rubber tuxedo! But should he abandon his favourite classic for a new adventure? It almost felt like cheating… OW, what would our hero do?!

When Franky stomped back into the auditorium behind the last row of seats, a fizzy fresh bottle in each hand, the performers were already on stage. Whoa, there was a whole crackin' crowd of them! Background dancers wearing suit jackets, pantyhose and funky furry hats, the leads sparkling in flashy sequin dresses and huge wigs, and Bon bro in the middle, singing about the beauties of being a man and a woman at the same time. Even Franky's powerful perv-detector couldn't compute half of that. Their moves were _da bomb _tho! OW, shakin' the booty like that asked for some serious hip-work! Franky was shocked, electro-_tortured,_ that nobody but him gave into the urge to shake that thing like the hottest Saturday night fever was igniting the floor! He meant, they even blew _kisses!_

Oh, SUPER finally! Somebody stood up from the audience to cheer them on! Maybe the crowd wasn't as hopeless, after all?

Wait, no, that didn't look like headbanging, not one bit… The guy was screaming and tearing his hair! Maybe he just couldn't handle all the fab? Franky could get behind that, he felt the same way each day when looking into the mirror, OW! But no, that couldn't be it! The dude went on a ferocious kicking frenzy to get out of his mid-row seat, but he didn't stop there! When he was finally out, he started dashing towards the main entrance so hard Franky thought he might take flight any second, yelling at the top of his lungs all the while.

"It was a dream, a fucking dream! It wasn't me, not me, leave me alooone!"

He was so erratic that the dancers stopped to stare at him mid-pirouette. The dude's zest almost ripped Franky's shirt right off as he swooshed past him! OW, pervert!

Good thing Zoro bro was watching the door that evening. He kept complaining how there wasn't much boomtastic action for him at the talent shows compared to his shifts at the Zombie Night. Well, he was in luck, 'cause a hearty portion of lopsided lunatic was speeding his very direction! That should make him happy enough, Franky thought.

Though, as far as Franky could see, Zoro looked not just plain unhappy, but SUPER pissed to see the guy! Well, admittedly, with his stone-cold samurai antagonist face, Zoro bro never really looked too glad to see anyone, Franky supposed, but ticking blond timebomb dashing towards him seemed to make him especially go Shadow-Warrior-of-Doom style. It was about to go _down!_

"Fuck no, not this shithead again!" screamers gonna scream, as the saying went, and the whole audience heard the hysterical dude do it.

"Says who, you bastard!" But not even Franky's cryptic cyborg battle senses would have predicted that cool and collected Zoro bro would start yelling back! "Hold the hell up! Hey!" Even his face flared up red! It was the terrible horrible no good tomato juice 'n' cola label all over again!

Oh wow, that was it! Franky cracked the code! The guy could have only been Zoro's secret arch nemesis - so super secret that not even Zoro bro himself knew!

The special show had to have a down time. It was _showdown_ time! (Man, Franky was _on fire._)

Mr. Crazy McHurricane Legs lunged ahead to run past Zoro bro and out the door, but Green Neon-lantern of all security guards wouldn't let him off that easily! He caught one of the dude's arms in his Iron Grip Of The Sacred Lotus, but was countered with a leaping Turbo Tornado Kick lashing back his way, exploding against his chest! But the fighter of the Emerald Sword did not falter. He grabbed the Wonky Whirlwind Warrior's other arm with brutal barbaric force and yanked the guy back to face him. Little did he know that that was _exactly_ what Lord Lightningfeet wanted! With elastic elegance, he kicked his heel up high behind his back, and with a deathly swing of doom, he shot his knee forward to strike Samurai General Green right in the… The uh… The Jingle Bells- No. Eggs 'N' Sausag- Family Jewellery Box- Uh, Sacred Joystick of No Retur- Ugh, in the balls! The dude kicked him in the balls, okay?!

"Hey, stop kidding around! This is our show, here!" Bon bro clearly didn't share their fiery fighting spirit. No, he had the unstoppable boogie in his legs, and he wouldn't let _anyone_ stand in its way! Or something like that. "Eyes up here, darlings, and crank the volume up! It's finale time! Un, deux, trois!"

The horde of dancing diva feet started moving as one to the beat while the bawdy burlesque music booming from the speakers drowned out all other sound. Give it to 'em, ladies, O-OW O-OW! They definitely got five stars from Franky! Or, well, basically just the two tattooed onto his arms, but he raised it SUPER high and flashy for their sakes!

The only sorta-drawback of the deal was that Franky couldn't hear a peep anymore from the fight of Zoro the Righteous and Blondie the Berserker. Aside from some slamming against the big double door. And a chair almost brea- No, never mind. That thing was more broken than Cinderella's dancing shoes in the Robopocalypse. And still the two kept on fighting, grappling and kicking and punching. Franky hardly believed his eyes, but it looked like The Green Demon Of The East had finally met his match! What will Zoro the Zapblade do? Will he defy the law and order of the sacred halls of the city library and auditorium and bust out his deadly Three Swords Style?!

Maaaybe, just maybe, the secret cyborg spectator ought to intervene before they broke the whole place to pieces. Didn't really need Cpt. Tashigi and the whole police station to come down. That would just blow things up even more; her and Zoro bro meeting... OW, shiver!

Yep, time to stand those rowdy superboys into two opposite corners. (Some good points with Nico Robin? Hell yeah!)

And so, after stuffing his precious bottles of cola into his front shirt pockets, Franky sneaktastically approached the two roughhousers. Praise the lord of cyberspace for his SUPER reflexes, he dodged a threatening shoe flying in his general direction just in time! Talk about chem bomb!

Ironically enough, just as he was about to make his heroic entrance and make peace between the two, they seemed to have reached some kind of standstill. Well, they still kept on yelling each other's heads off, but they were at least _standing still._ (Okay, now they would really have to call the police, and also Chopper bro, cause Franky's puns were _illegally sick_ that day! OW!)

"Let's take this outside," Zoro bro sneered into his newfound opponent's face, "you curly bastard."

"Huh. Fine. Why don't I give you a lift?"

The louder guy spat at that, right before he lunged in for another kick. OW! Better for Franky to stop walking; brollateral damage didn't sound too good! However, Zoro bro evaded the attack furiously fast yo. And as soon as the crazy dude had his back to him, he slammed his elbow deep between the guy's shoulder blades with brute strength! The troublemaker bounced back from the wall just as Zoro spoke again.

"Gym hall. Tomorrow. I'm gonna cut you to pieces."

"Oh?" the blond dude scoffed. "So you wouldn't let me the fuck out of here, but you don't have the guts to fight me here and now?" The guy turned away slightly from Zoro, arms crossed. He displayed a grimace so mocking that the devil's cheeky cheekbones would have blushed with shame! "Are you afraid I'd kick the living green slimy shit out of you in front of everyone, or are you just a shitty post brain surgery gorilla?"

"Oh yeah?!" Zoro bro's face looked as if he had come second at a chili eating contest. Franky almost thought about running for cover for a sec there! Only for a sec. "Heh," Zoro then snorted, slowly regaining his trademark composure. But that grin of his would have even made the biggest giant robot go weak at the knees!

"'Heh' what, you pile of curdled snot?" the other dude demanded, raising an eyebrow. Hey, it was swirly! Super weird!

"I knew you'd chicken out."

"Whaaat?!" The blond guy's mouth went so gaping wide it could have swallowed the whole auditorium. OW, Franky knew he shouldn't have stood so close. OW, his super sensitive ears had backdraws!

"I was right, then, huh?" Zoro smirked. "You don't dare to face me one on one, Pervert-brow!"

"That's fucking it, you rotten son of a shitty lettuce!" the dude kept on yelling. Either he was spitting inaudible nonsense or he was just jabberin' so quickly that Franky couldn't follow. And that was impossible. Franky's hearing was so SUPER he could have heard an ant whisper on the moon! "I'll be there!" the blond continued. "I'll be there and kick your ass so hard it will fall out of your fucking mouth!"

And just like that, the showdown was over! Well, technically, temporarily. The Blond Riot whirled around, tore one wing of the large entrance door open and stomped out, with the gusto of the most dissatisfied elephant customer out of a porcelain shop.

"At eight!" And would you look at that, he still had something snappy to say in the door! "You hear me?! It'll be the time of your shitty and meaningless death!"

"Yeah? Just try, you curly bastard!"

Zoro bro slammed the door shut again after the guy just as a hip and hearty rendition of a can-can started playing for the dancers on stage. OW, that kind of dance just got Franky's eyeballs all twisted up. But that wasn't the cause for his frown. He tilted his head, tilted it lower and even lower still, until only the laws of cybernetic engineering applied to his sick angle, and he still didn't get it! Had he missed a memo, or was dueling cool again? Why didn't anyone ever tell ol' Franky bro these things?!

"Ah," he heard Zoro bro say, frowning at him, "Franky? What's up?"

Dammit, Franky had squandered his chance for a heroic star-pose. He ended up just standing there watching! SUPER lame! He hoped nobody he knew saw! Well, aside from Zoro bro. Or Nico Robin. Had she seen? Was she looking? She was looking wasn't she? Should Franky check if she was looking…?

"You listening? Oi!"

"Uhh, h-hey-hey, Zoro bro!" Franky immediately switched over into his Cool-Story-Bro attitude, flicking his shades above his nose. Flawless, OW! "You okay there? That guy just now looked SUPER intense!"

"Tch, he was nothing," Zoro crossed his arms. If the taste of revenge was sweet, how did an even match taste? Apparently not too good, yo, from how Zoro spat. Franky wouldn't know, of course.

"So…" _How does it feel to finally meet your action comic arch enemy?_ "You know the guy or-?"

"How long have you been standing there?" Zoro bro interrupted. Uh-oh, the samurai villain face…! How could Franky have been so careless?! No superhero nor villain liked to be robbed of their secret identity!

"Uh..."

"OKAMA WAY!"

Loud cheering commenced from behind them. Ah, Bon bro, his newest, but ever so faithful friend came to Franky's rescue! That was SUPER touching! Franky would have to write a song about it…!

Wow, the crowd was going crazy for them, yo! Even Zoro bro could only stare at them in surprise. Had Bon bro pulled a sneaky one and planted insiders among the audience? Or had his SUPER converted them so fast? Man, Franky really needed to get his game on. Next time, Franky would have his full-on Battle Franky suit ready! Just you wait, cold-hearted audience! The power of nipple lights would melt you soon enough!

"Oi," Zoro spoke up from next to him, so suddenly that Franky almost jumped into hyper-speed heel-rocket drive! "What are you crying for?"

OW, how _could_ he mask his heart-wrenching, soul shattering delight with an attitude so icy cold that it was on the verge of SUPER startling? How did he even pull that off? Franky kept telling him how it's bad to keep one's feelings in like that, but Zoro bro never listened! And besides...!

"I'm not crying, dammit!" Franky did not sniffle and reach for his soggy handkerchief. "Anyway," he took his sunglasses off to wipe them off. Because they were dirty. Not damp and foggy from any non-existing salty tears. "You gonna go through with that?"

"With what?"

"The duel, man. The duel!" And there Franky was, ready to sneak after 'em with a large menu of popcorn and cola, and Zoro bro was being just one big yawn about it! Not cool! "It's gonna be a duel. Or something. Right?" Also super uncool to seem too excited, tho'.

"Huh," was the not the least bit pumped reaction.

Franky was sure that was all he was gonna get at that point. After this horrible lack of vivacious vigor, he would need a GI Joe slash Flashdance movie marathon to feel fierce funky fresh again, OW! But then, suddenly, it was as if some weird wacko DJ had started playing the Thriller music video in his head, but fast-forwarded it to the end! That bone-shivering sound effect was exactly how Zoro bro's face looked, with that creepy as balls grin on his face! Why did creepypasta constantly get dumped into Franky's funky alphabet soup that day? Why?!

"Yeah," Zoro finally seemed to answer the question, as ominous as a pair of freshly ironed suit pants. What? Those _never_ meant anything good!

He could have been talking to a large pile of burgers, though, from how he licked his lips. The scene could have been really cool, if only it wasn't scaring the speedos off of… of a dude that looked like Franky, but could have never have hoped to be as SUPER as Franky, yo. Truth!

"Sure I'll go. But it won't be any pansy duel. It's gonna be a bloodbath."


	4. Snack Time 1: Firestarter

**Snack Time #1: "Firestarter"**

"So the pot calls the kettle black, huh? Stinkin' Marimo bastard."

Zoro heard the words dripping of sarcasm before he could even enter the training room. But even unseen, there was no doubt who that voice belonged to…

"What are you on about?" He spat, slamming the door of the training hall shut. _Marimo? What the hell?_

Even though he had expected to see the guy - he had asked him to come after all -, Zoro still sported a wrinkly, sour frown as he lay eyes on Sanji, the prick standing in the middle of the hall, tapping his feet in his ridiculously short gym shorts. Zoro should have been the one waiting, not that prissy fucker…

"What do you mean, 'what'? I thought you were a no-show, you fuckface! It's been an hour!" Sanji impatiently pointed an index finger to his wrist.

"Five minutes, tops," Zoro scoffed at that. The guy wasn't even wearing a watch, how would he know? "You were here too early to mess with me."

"Who do you take me for? A five-year-old like you?" Sanji gave the shitty bastard an ugly scowl, watching as he dumped his bag on the floor. It didn't look like an ordinary sports bag, as long as it was. Not big enough for this stinkin' asshole Zoro's dead body, though. That wouldn't do.

"Huh, I could have sworn you were three and a half," Zoro huffed with a shit-eating grin. That shitty…!

"What did you just say…?!" No, the bag would be big enough for a clump of minced meat… "You stinkin' piece of-!"

"How did you even get in here?" Zoro interrupted.

He looked right and left, inspecting the unfamiliar terrain. A small hall, with cold grey walls and a red, hard mat covering the floor. Zoro had never been in the kickboxing hall before. It was in the exact opposite wing of the gym of where he usually trained. But since he had seen light streaming out of its door, after finding the main entrance unlocked as well, he figured the fighting grounds were already chosen. Who else could have been there at eight (and definitely not nine) in the evening than that crazy motherfucker?

The kendo hall was much more to his liking, however. Wooden and paper walls, familiar tatami under his feet... Zoro's kind of terrain for a good fight. But he was in the curly bastard's home field now. That spelled disadvantage. Dammit.

"Duh!" Sanji wasted no time dangling the keychain for Zoro to see. "I have the keys?" Nooo, he had spread his wings and flown in through the fucking roof windows! How did that shit-for-brains _think_ he had gotten in?!

"How?"

"How?!" Sanji couldn't believe his ears. He had already had a notion that the green brute had only one braincell, but for even that to be rotten and moldy? "Well, unlike a lazy piece of shitty ass like you, I actually come down here to train. Every damn day, you hear me? So I asked for the keys. Didn't wanna just stand outside like some fucking loser while you wouldn't show your ugly mug-"

"This place is crap," the asswipe interrupting him again was one thing, but insulting one of his favourite places there was?! "The kendo hall is way better than this sorry excuse of a training grounds," the fartface had the guts to add. Why that slimy sack of horseshit...!

"Kendo, huh? You mean fiddling sticks in a room that doesn't even have walls? _Seriously?" _Sanji at least expected mud wrestling to be the damn gorilla's forte. But kendo? What the flying fuck even...

"Let's move over there," Zoro demanded.

In contrary to the avalanche of piss that was Sanji's words, Zoro came down to the gym every damn day, too. Hell, being here was his day job! A not very well paying one yet, but yes, he had a day job as a children's kendo instructor-in-training. So of course he had a set of keys, too, which was why he had picked the gym in the first place. That haughty piece of crap, thinking he's so much better...

"Huh?!" Aaand the blond bastard started screeching. Nothing new there. "Like fuck we are! You don't get to decide, Mr. I'm-Late-For-My-Own-Fucking-Funeral! We're staying here and you're finally gonna fight me, you permanent shitstain! I'm not letting you run away!"

"Who's running away?!" Zoro was starting to get mad now…

"You are, chicken shit!"

"As if!" Was the damn bastard drunk again? "_You_ ran away twice now! Or have I hit you too hard and you forgot?"

"Riiight, that's what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night," Sanji scoffed. He won't listen to this motherfucker's heaps of bullshit, after his cowardly act the day before, _and_ making him wait for a fucking hour! "Oh, wait, don't tell me! I already _know_ why you were late! Mommy needed to change your diaper before you left! Yeah, you shat yourself really hard, 'cause you know I'll be kicking your sorry ass up into space to be the new satellite around the world!"

"That's. It!" the shitty green asshole growled and threw his jacket off onto the ground, obviously thinking it looked cool. He was so full of shit Sanji felt like gagging. "You're gonna regret that!" the dipshit took on a wide stance. Fucking finally... "You damn bastard! Shut the hell up and fight me!"

"About time, asshole!"

Their first clash was already a hard one. They lunged at each other almost at the same time, Sanji's kick to the head parried by Zoro's fist on his shin, then pushed back. Damn, Sanji's momentum wasn't enough to break through; he kept forgetting just how monstrous the damn Marimo's upper body strength was. Fine, then, other leg now. Let the asswipe taste his spinning kick!

Zoro blocked that, too, but with a lot more effort than he would have liked to show. The bastard's leg against his lower arm felt like an iron rod, and it was _on fire._ So the guy had decent kicks, okay, but he sucked bad with using his arms. As far as Zoro could see, at least. It looked almost like he held them back on purpose. Was he an idiot? If he was trying to 'go easy' on him, Zoro would have to force him out of his bullshit act, right?

The pressure again's Sanji's leg eased rapidly, and he had to keep himself from turning around as his kick fired over Zoro's head. _Yeah, you'd better duck, you shitty son of a plankton._ The closer he was to the floor, the better. Sanji would make sure he ended up there, half-dead. Oh, wait, would you look at that. The rancid caveman wasn't as lame on his feet as Sanji had thought; Zoro jumped right back up and swung his right fist at his face. He must have been a real headcase if he thought he could beat _him_ in speed. And Sanji would show him why…

The curly bastard raised his arms, sure enough, but not in defense, as Zoro had at first thought. Sanji's arms swung to the side and his palms went straight for the floor, a split second before he could hit his face in. Damn, Zoro now cursed himself for putting so much in that puch. All of his body weight was in his front leg, the supporting his outstretched arm and upper body. And the one the blond son of a bitch moved to kick out from underneath him in the next moment…

Tripping the brute asshole up could have earned a spot among Sanji's favourite hobbies. He grinned as he watched Zoro land face-down on the floor beside him, grunting curses.

"Aww, is that all you've got, shitty Marim-? Oi!"

Sanji yelped, somersaulting back to avoid Zoro catching his wrists. And good thing he did, too. Zoro swore he would have flung the damn fucker against the wall if he had gotten his hands on him… No, to hell with that. That was what the shitty eyebrows was aiming for, like last time; to rile him up. Oh, Zoro won't give him the satisfaction of losing his cool. Sanji was much-much easier to piss off, anyway. The bastard must have had a serious ego trip to think he could play games with him…

Sanji's heels had barely collided with the hard mat when Zoro rolled back to his feet, and stomped ahead for a punch in no time. To counter, Sanji's shin crashed hard into the numbskull's arm. But however he strained to put more weight into his kick, Sanji couldn't move it back an inch, and so his momentum was broken completely. Shit.

"What's the matter? Tired already?" Zoro grinned into his face, that damnable bucket of cocky cockroach shit.

"Says who, you disgusting chunk of dried vomit? Your arm is shaking reeealy badly! That must hurt!"

"Do you ever shut your trap?" the green bastard huffed. "Getting real fed up with your big-ass words and nothing behind them."

"Oh yeah?! Eat this!" Sanji gritted his teeth, pushing harder.

They struggled to overpower each other for a long minute, standing almost completely still. Sanji noticed Zoro's other hand shooting out to grab him just in time. Using the strength of the asshole's arm, Sanji whipped his leg back in the opposite direction to replace the one on the floor, and he swung himself into a handstand with zest, to pull in both his knees and shoot his heels right into the asswipe's gut. He landed a full hit, of course, sending the shitty scarface stumbling back, coughing.

Zoro slid back on the mat. His and instinctively moved to the ruin that were his abs. Damn, he couldn't let those legs anywhere near his vital spots, or he would be toast, he regrettably had to admit. As he straightened back up somewhat, his foot brushed against fabric on the floor… Sanji was already spinning and jumping forward to attack him again, on feet to palms to feet...

Sanji felt victory in his pocket already. The fuckface was wide open, so why not knock him out with a boom? On his hands again, Sanji picked his legs up in the air and whirled his left one forward, to give even more force to his right one that followed. He aimed for the musclebrain's head again; his obviously weakest spot.

Ugh, Zoro parried again, fuck him! But something was off. That wasn't his arm…!

Zoro could hear the wood of his practice sword creak under the pressure of Sanji's roundhouse kick. That was close. Shifting his hold, he had to push back with both arms on the hilt to hold the damn bastard in place, too.

"What the shit, you stinkin' cocksucker?!" Sanji screamed out. More and more blood was rushing to his head, boiling hot. "Can't fight without your shitsticks, huh?! You shitty cheater!"

"Huh, what's that? You're saying," Zoro shifted his weight to his front leg, "that it's too much," then pressed forward, his whole torso tight, "for you to," he gripped the sword hilt harder and, "take?!" Zoro struggled, but took a step forward, pushing the loudmouth back and back, until he forced him to flip back from his swing.

"Hah!" Sanji spat, on his feet again. "Go ahead, then, come at me!" he spread his arms and gestured with his fingers mockingly. "A measly piece of wood won't save your ass, you shitty sore loser!"

Zoro didn't need much convincing to strike again. He was coming on so fiercely that Sanji thought it better to evade than to parry. It was almost like someone flipped a switch from nuts to berserk in the shitty fuckface's head. His moves were nothing like the boring forward-slashing Sanji sometimes caught glimpses of through the kendo hall windows when the showers were broken in the north wing every other week or so. Zoro's every step, slash and swing looked so well-calculated and precise…That asshole was a whole other person with that pathetic sword in his hand. Not as if that would improve the shitty asshole's chances any. Ha! He still hadn't seen the best of Sanji yet…!

Each time Sanji evaded, Zoro had to double his focus to be able to follow all of his jumping around. He couldn't recognize any pattern how he coordinated his kicks, and yet the curly bastard always had a swing of his own to spare at each of his sword-strikes. Good. Just what Zoro was hoping for. He had been craving a decent fight…!

The training hall grew brighter and brighter as the rays of the rising sun shone in through the glass roof. And still Zoro and Sanji were at it. The kendo practice sword was lost somewhere in the far corner of the room, and their discarded shirts were in disarray along the blood and sweat smeared mat, while they themselves were on their knees, pushing against each other with hands linked and arms straining, neither of them wanting to let go.

"Had enough yet…? You… you shitty pile of… of shit?!" Sanji was panting hard, but kept his eyes straight at the green asshole's hideous face.

"Hah…! You fucking wish…!" Zoro blinked away sweat that was dripping down from his damp hairline. "You bastard...!"

However, both of them whipped their heads to the side to a noise intruding on their silence. A grinding, smashing kind of sound that still shifted into a melody; the loudest and most destructive Prodigy song available. And it was coming from Zoro's bag on the floor.

"Oh hell no…".

"What the fuck is that?" Sanji wrinkled his nose, letting his arms down just as Zoro's started to descend.

"My alarm," Zoro admitted. "Damn. It's four thirty in the morning…?" he scrambled up from the floor to turn the obnoxious music off.

"No way. No fucking way. You've gotta be shitting me..." Sanji could only stare after him in shock. Now that they mentioned it, he really was starting to feel tired as a motherfucker.

"Nope, not shitting you," Zoro threw his now silenced phone back into his bag.

"I… have work in, like..." Sanji had to count on his fucking fingers, he was so drained. "Three hours? Holy shit. Fuck..."

"Don't even remind me," Zoro walked back to where he had left Sanji and sat down on the floor. "I might as well just stay here..." he sprawled out on the floor. The first class of brats would start at seven… Yeah, no, he would skip his pre-class training routine, or he might fall asleep in standing…

"What for?" Unsure why exactly, but Sanji followed the green asshole's example and lay back onto the flooring. He could have fallen asleep right then and there… Resting his head on the mat, his eyes were caught up by the humongous scar on Zoro's bare chest, rising and falling. Had that been there up until then…?

"I work here," Zoro replied matter-of-factly.

"Huh. As a janitor? With how much you love shitty sticks, you probably wipe the floor like no other..."

"Ha-ha," Zoro's laugh was half a cough. "Fuck you too, you bastard."

"Hey..." Sanji's voice spoke up from next to Zoro. It probably was the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. "Admit it. The time I jumped up on your sword and kicked you in the kisser was pretty cool."

"Tch! You were just lucky. 'Cause when you tried to pull that the second time, I flung you against the wall, sword and everything. You spat pieces of paint… Haha…!"

"Stop fucking laughing, you shitty clump of algae!"

However, Sanji's chuckles were bubbling up, too, as he smacked the idiot on the ar with the back of his hand. God, even that one move made his arm feel like lead.

"Whatever, wall-licker!" Zoro swatted back. His hit was so weak it just made him laugh even more.

"What the shit is that supposed to be, you no-brainer…!"

Sanji watched some birds flutter and bounce on top of the glass roof, chirping for morning. There was quiet otherwise. And there was a twitch. A soft, small one, right from beneath Sanji's palm. It was only then he noticed that his hand wasn't lying on the mat…

Zoro was startled awake by how fast Sanji moved beside him. Ah. Was that his hand…? He glanced to his side, but only saw Sanji's back turned towards him. Huh. Maybe the bastard was thinking of napping here, too. What the heck, he was wearing heart-patterned boxers. Yep, those gym shorts were still ridiculously short. This idiot made Zoro feel half a pervert… Again.

"Oi," he extended his arm just a little bit, to nudge Sanji's back.

"What?" Heh. The prissy blond twitched from it. "What do you want, assface?"

"This fight…" Zoro closed his eyes and breathed out. And found himself smiling. "We should do it again."


	5. Around The World

**Chapter 4: "Around The World"**

Cars were zooming back and forth on the busy main street, somewhere farther away. Where Usopp was sitting, though, at the foot of a large wooden shack, the only traffic was the occasional ragged kid on a bike, or a stray cat jumping from one busted car roof on the other. The junkyard - or Franky House by its fancier name -, was an unfrequented, and severely underrated place.

Until the head of the House would arrive, Usopp had made himself right at home. April was nearing its end, and that could have only meant one thing. _Suns out, guns out!_ Ah, Usopp had been looking forward to wearing short overalls again… So while he waited, he was basically sunning. Sitting on a wooden crate, he had propped his feet up onto another, smaller one, to conveniently be able to work his magic on his digital tablet, with his coolest of cool funky and electronic playlist buzzing through his headphones.

His tool of the trade was not just any tablet, either. It was a state-of-the-art deal - the marriage of performance and style! Whiiich had to be rigged just a teency tiny bit to be able to run his super awesome 3D modeling software without lagging too much. It indeed was a good thing to have friends in the Galley-La, the biggest and most famous building and trading industry, with its seat in the capital, the Big City! Or, okay, more like friends of those friends…

But nobody had to know. Ever. No, not even you. Forget everything you have just witnessed. Forget it right now!

Maaan, drawing eight thousand men one by one was hard work, no matter what kind of awesome pen you had! Thanks to digital era and the sorcery of copy and paste, Usopp only had to tweak the faces and clothes a little to give the whole concept a bit of variety, that was true. It could have been far worse. However, he found over and over again, at every fifth little face, that designing a game was pretty exhausting… But he had won the annual _Let It Beep!_ PC game demo contest, at long last! The mighty Usopp wasn't going to give up! Never! And here he already had, uh, 2196 crewmen to back him up! Yeaaah!

Just as he boosted himself up for drawing again, Usopp's tablet started shaking with a message signal. Feelings of 'oh darn' and 'oh finally' hit him at the same time. He promptly slid his pen along the vibrating icon to take the video call.

"Hi Ace!"

"Hey, Usopp-kun," Portgas D. Ace grinned up sheepishly at him from the screen. "Sorry about last time. I guess I just um..."

"Nah, no biggie," Usopp waved his hand in a reassuring gesture. "I kiiinda got the hint after you started snoring," he added with a slight grin, at which Ace chortled at the other end of the world.

Really, it was a near impossible, and highly disrespectful thing to fall asleep in the middle of the Great Captain Usopp's anecdotes! In the middle of laughing, too! But who could ever stay mad at Luffy's big brother?

"Saw your email with the progress shots. Great job so far!" Ace applauded, smiling wide. "Luffy's gonna love it."

"He'd better! He's gonna be _dazzled_ by my awesome painting skills! Oh, yeah, and Franky's design, too," Usopp allowed.

"Hehe, he's gonna be over it like a gourmet table! Man, now I'm hungry..."

"So. Could you work it out?" Usopp got to the point and leaned closer to the screen, excited. Ow, ow, okay, not that close. He rubbed his nose, then noticed himself and quickly pretended scratching it instead. "Haha, these damn mosquitoes, right? Hahaha!"

"Um…" Was Ace buying it…? "Y-yeah, yeah, sure! I'll be there!" He was! Yusss! "Probably gonna arrive the day before."

"Really?! Awesome! Can't wait to see Luffy's face when you show up! Oh, this is gonna be so _great…!"_

Usopp and the others had been planning Luffy's nineteenth birthday for pretty much over a year now. Ever since Luffy's eighteenth, to be precise. The had been some bad stuff in the family for the poor guy the previous year, and since he had taken it on himself to help fix it, having gone away for almost a year and a half, there had been no birthday bash that year. That had been the first birthday since they had known each other that had gone uncelebrated...

But Ace said he was okay now! If the tales were to be believed, Luffy had helped Ace bust out of a crazy mental institute back then. The Great Usopp-sama had been there, too, of course, so he would know!

It had turned out that the institute was actually a prison cleverly _disguised _as one! Luffy and Ace had been hopelessly trapped, begging for help, tortured, crying day and night! So The Mighty Usopp had had to personally go and bust them out! That's right! He had been the one saving both of their lives, from the giant devil warden with gas issues, then there was uh… a female guard obsessed with S/M and another one that had insisted on, um… on wearing a wacky Egyptian headpiece all the time! Yeah! There had been a huge fight, with explosions and sick battle moves and stuff!

And after that, they lived happily ev- Uhh, no, sorry, wrong tale…

So _after that,_ Ace had started to get proper treatment for his narcolepsy. And now, he had just been given the OK to travel! Yesss!

"Yeah, I'm so pumped!" Ace grinned into his webcam. "I'm just gonna, you know, roll along in this cool car I've rented and everything… It's actually kind of big, and kind of a pick-up. And it has flames on it! _Flames,_ dude! I'm in love."

"Wait a sec. You're gonna _drive_ all the way here?!"

Don't get him wrong, Usopp was very-very happy for Ace's sake, about his well-progressed recovery, and to see him dork around with Luffy again soon and all that. But that road trip idea didn't sound good, at all! Not one bit!

"Yeah! Why not?" and Ace just shrugged! As if Usopp had asked him if he wanted to go for ice cream later! How could he stay so calm about something so outrageously insane?!

"Are you out of your _mind?!"_ Usopp jumped up to his feet without even thinking. "You live, like, a zillion thousand kilometres from here! Where are you gonna sleep?! What if you fall asleep at the wheel and crash into a truck?! Or two trucks?!" he screamed so hard there was spittle on his tablet screen.

"Hey, chill, Usopp, I'll be fi-"

"No, you're definitely _not_ gonna be fine! You're not getting into that car, not alone! Or I swear I'll fly over there and slam your toes with my Golden Ten Ton Hammer!" Ugh, these D brothers were gonna be the the death of The Mighty Captain Usopp one of these days…

"Okay, okay, alright! I give up, Brave Usopp-sama," Ace chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. Another day saved by the Great Usopp! "I'm still wanna show off that pick-up truck, though. Maybe if I ask someone… Do you have room for one more to crash?"

"Sure, no problem," Usopp gave him a thumbs-up. After all, there had been more than one night where even ten people slept over at the tiny apartment he shared with Luffy! No lie!

"Hmm, now who to ask..." Ace looked thoughtful for a moment, and then, "Alright!" he called out, jumping up from his chair so suddenly that he toppled over his webcam. There was a minute of microphone groping and finger-shadows until Usopp could see anything again. "Haha, sorry, dude. But I've just gotten _the_ best idea!"

"You have? What is it?" Usopp wondered.

Ace was just about to share, when Usopp distractedly raised his head, listening for a familiar noise. The engine booms and break screeching of a certain ancient tow truck...

"Ah, there they are," Usopp murmured the remark, then whipped his head back to look at Ace through the camera again. "Sorry, Ace. Time to continue the B. P. P.!"

"Aww, okay. Say hi to the guys for me."

"Will do!" nodding, Usopp assured, said good-bye and ended the call with a flick of his finger.

"Yo, Usopp bro!"

And barely had Usopp slid his tablet and pen into their special bag when Franky arrived to stand in front of him, waving his large hand.

"Hey, Franky! Look who suited up!" Usopp grinned.

He was pleased to see him wearing his 'dirt suit' to the occasion; it was basically an old Galley-La logo T-shirt, with the text crossed out and 'SUPER * STAR' written on it with a textile marker, but the fact that Franky had put it on was a sign that he meant to get his hands dirty. And over that, he had the same red-black checked shirt he had worn on Usopp's surprise birthday party at the arcade! But um… _That_ was about the shortest jeans shorts he had ever seen in his entire life. Didn't feel like pants again, huh?

"OW, you bet!" Franky mirrored the grin, then struck his favourite arms-in-the-air pose. "Let's get down to business!"

"Where's Zoro? Please tell me you brought him..."

"Huh?" Franky scratched his head. "Didn't he get out…?" He looked around. "Yo, Zoro bro! Where'd you go?"

Padding back to the old truck, it didn't take them long to locate Zoro. He was still inside the truck, sure enough, sleeping peacefully, but above all loudly, in the shotgun seat, his face halfway smooshed against the side window.

Usopp and Franky shared a sideways look. And a smirk.

Usopp was already leaned against the one Zoro was plastered against when Franky had only just clicked the truck's driver-side door open, carefully, silently… A meaty hand raised above the steering wheel and two fists against the passenger door, they nodded with their countdown. _Three… Two… One…!_

The truck's horn blared aloud, immediately chasing all the pigeons and cats in the yard to their hiding places. But Usopp was convinced that it was the added plus of the his Mighty Infernal Fist-drumming Technique on the rusty doorside that finally forced Zoro to jolt awake. Haha, the big idiot almost slammed his head into the windshield! However, taking credit was suddenly not that appealing to Usopp anymore when Zoro laid eyes on him first, jumped out of the truck and started chasing him around it.

"It wasn't me, it wasn't me, I swear!"

"Get back here, damn long-nose!" Please tell Usopp Zoro hadn't brought his swords, please please please…!

"I'm just gonna go and unlock the House, yeah?" Franky declared, and that traitor just slipped by their circling to the shed, whistling and jingling his keyring.

"Don't just leave me here! Frankyyy…!"

They have run circles around the truck for _hours and hours on end_, because that was how long it took for the Great Usopp to even feel the slightest bit dizzy. Yep! Oh, and Franky was done unlocking the door by then, too. W-wow, talk about slow, hahaha…! (Damn, busted.) That piece of log should have just minded its own business though. What was it thinking, jumping forth from the back of the truck like that to punch him in the face? Wood these days! And Zoro just heartlessly left him lying on the ground, too! Guess who would _not_ cover for him the next time he's late for security duty? Ha, that'd teach him! Usopp will _so_ go through with it, too!

Franky and Zoro had already begun unloading the logs and planks from the back of the truck when Usopp gave priority to blast some music from the speakers inside the shed. Franky somehow got Bluetooth on those 80's boomboxes, so there went nothing…

"OW, lovin' this song! _Around the wooorld, around the world around the-"_

"Oi, Franky, stop shaking around and hold the pile still!" There was clattering… Oops.

Before heading outside to help other others, Usopp turned an admiring gaze towards their work so far. The masts were tall and magnificent, the hull was slowly piecing together, too… The rest of the Franky Family was out on an errand, but they would lend a hand next Sunday. That should speed things up.

He was still a bit wary about the wheels that were supposed to carry the whole thing behind the ol' truck, but Eustass Kid had provided the long and robust metal frame that connected them to the structure. That guy knew his metal, as owner of the vicinity's metal factory, so it should be alright, Usopp decided.

Makino-san and the kindergarten kids were making progress with sewing the flag, too. Usopp could hardly wait to paint the figurehead design on it! Well, the day's task for him involved a lot of painting already, but he didn't mind. It was too bad Nami couldn't come because of work that day, but she had bought the paints he needed to make up for it. So it was time to make that lion figurehead brilliant, vibrant and totally awesome!

Thousand Sunny, they had begun calling her. Yes, she would become the best on-land pirate ship to ever roll into the middle of a birthday party!

Her captain had been waiting for years.

Hoarding, toppling and dropping, sawing, dusting, hammering, screaming in pain, spraying, coughing… Ah, the music of the working man. That and electro.

All the wood was inside the shed. Franky had prepped most of it, too, cutting new planks and putting them to soak, to be bent into shape later. Zoro did most of the carrying. He hauled plank onto plank, took them on top of the frame one after the other, and held them in place while Franky was drilling and hammering away at them. By the time Usopp had mixed the perfect sun yellow, and the first layer of it was drying on the giant figurehead, most of the second floor of the ship was pieced and fastened in place. This was no amateur work, no sir.

The beat of the hammer stopped again, for a while. Zoro literally jumped ship, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and drying his sawdusty face with the edge of his shirt. Franky followed and sat down on the edge of the frame to take a breather.

"Oi, Usopp," Zoro turned to him as he was climbing down the ladder, paint bucket and stencil in hand. "Didn't you say there was one more guy coming?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it…" Usopp hummed to himself, contemplative. Unless he was caught up with work at the Baratie, or was losing his mind over chicks, Sanji was very particular about punctuality. "I wonder where Sanji is…"

"_Sanji?"_

Zoro displayed a curious expression; a mix of surprise and bubbling anger. Oh, yeah! Nami had mentioned something about them having tried to choke each other on the liquor store floor in the plaza. And supposedly before that, too, at a party? It couldn't have been… Zombie Night, right? Usopp thought he had smoothed things over when he convinced Zoro to let Sanji and his friends in. Then again, Sanji could be really nasty and Zoro was surprisingly easily provoked…

Right then, it occurred to Usopp that they might have been withholding a nation-wide catastrophe with not introducing those two sooner. Yes, of course. That had been the plan; the Mighty Usopp-sama's plan, all along!

But… If they would meet at the party… The ship would be…!

"You okay there, Usopp bro?" Franky looked at him with worry.

"Y-yes…! Everything is fine!" Usopp put on his toughest and totally not suspicious voice. "Haha, fine, yes…!"

"'kay then…" Franky shrugged, then leapt down from the frame to fetch the broom in the corner. "Would be too bad if he missed out," he remarked. "And I bet he'd bring cool drinks, yo."

"Yeah. I was looking forward to his Pike-N-Spice sandwich…" Usopp sighed longingly, sitting down onto the lowest step of the ladder.

Far less amused, and probably less hungry, Zoro didn't make a comment. Instead, he dealt with the topic in just one curt 'tch', then reached down to pull his soggy, dirty T-shirt over his head, to dump it unceremoniously on the floor. The was no doubt that there was nobody stronger and manlier than The Great Usopp - they called him Mansopp, after all! But Zoro had already earned not one battle scar, but _two, _which was why Captain Usopp had most generously offered the very next spot in line to him. There had been an awarding ceremony and a seal of approval and everything. Usopp just _might _have forgotten to mention the time and date to Zoro, is all...

After a moment of silence, Franky took a deep breath and climbed back on deck to sweep off some of the sawdust. Zoro made his way towards the door, in the opposite direction, to their stuff they didn't want to overly dirty.

"Want any?" he offered their large water bottle to Usopp.

"Yeah," he nodded, "but you go first."

The bottle crinkled and squeaked as Zoro took it in one hand, and when he started pouring the water over his head, Usopp could have screamed and slapped himself repeatedly all at the same time for his decision. Okay, he may have actually done that. A little...

"Leave some for us, oi!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Zoro grumbled, and after shaking thick pellets of water off his hair, he finally held the bottle to his mouth and took a few big gulps. He looked kinda cool… c-considering he was at second place in manliness, of course. Hahaha…!

A tremendous clamour came blasting in from the outside, and Usopp didn't fall right off onto the ground. No, h-he just felt like doing some push-ups. See? Push-ups. On one knee and a foot caught in the lowest ladder-step. Yeah, great ab workout! Uhuh!

"OW, what was that out there? A cat again?" Franky leaned out from under a plank to look towards the door.

"Must have been a big one, then..." Zoro muttered ominously. "I'm gonna go look."

Usopp was right at Zoro's heels to check on the noise, too. Riiight after he had finished his, uh, two hundred or so more Usopp leaned out through the door, he found Zoro lifting up a steel barrel that had been tipped to the ground. No, 'tipped' was an understatement. There was a dent in that thing so large that Usopp head and all his hair could have fit into it! What kind of monster could have done it? What was lurking in the shadows of the junkyard…?

"Was it a… a… a cat-pigeon mutant slime?!"

Usopp felt his 'I-can't-go-outside-this-shed' disease kicking in with the symptoms of shivering and heavy perspiration and probably some tears…

"Yo, what's that over there?" Franky spoke up from next to them, and stepped over to the other, closed wing of the shed's door.

Usopp squinted. It looked like a… basket?

"D-did the monster leave its offspring at our doorstep…?!" Kill it, kill it with fire!

"Ah!" Franky grinned, and pulled a bottle out of the basket. "It's cola! OW, just what I needed!" he declared, popping the cap off with his nail and taking a good gulp.

"What kind of a monster leaves food?" Zoro frowned, reaching into the basket as well. "Oi, Usopp, is this yours?" he handed him a triangle-shaped bundle. Usopp unfolded the napkin and the unmistakable smell of roast pike hit him in an instant.

"Pike-N-Spice…?"

"Yo, check it out!"

Franky craned his neck over a piece of paper, tiny compared to his hand. When Zoro took it from him, Usopp recognized the baratie logo on its backside. A business card?

"It says," Usopp took it over last. The writing on it looked scribbled down in a hurry, and the letters were etched deeply, angrily onto the paper. "'Enjoy, shitty bastards.' Oh, and, 'P.S. Bring my basket back, or I'll… I'll carve your pumpkin heads'...? What the heck?"

"Huh," Zoro smirked. It wasn't cowardly to admit that, after all those years, Zoro grinning made Usopp… feel concerned. Yeah, concerned. "Looks like our 'monster' is a coward."


	6. He's A Pirate

**Chapter 5: "He's A Pirate"**

"Wahooo! Aesome!"

It was time for Luffy to leave home. But he couldn't go, not yet! He needed to warm up his awesome pirate cape! Whooosh to the bathroom! Nyooom back to the bedroom! Whooshoooshooosss around the kitchen table and out on the hallway! There, _now_ he was all set! People were big idiots for thinking capes weren't cool.

He couldn't wait to get to the Baratie! His nakama organized a surprise birthday party, just for him! Well, it wasn't really a surprise anymore, but that wasn't Luffy's fault!

There was that one time where he caught Usopp and Chopper talking about when to reserve the Baratie in the hallway, even though they had known Luffy was home. And Zoro and Franky had tried to convince Nami to rent a balloon castle in the living room when they had thought Luffy was too into his video game right in front of them. And then there was Robin and Brook trying on Usopp's pirate captain hat, talking about a party theme, while Luffy sat on the toilet right next door. Then Sanji had forgotten his shopping list on the kitchen table, with 'LUFFY'S BIRTHDAY' written on it with red letters, and all kinds of meat listed! The others were just so easy to figure out! As if they had wanted him to know on purpose! Haha, _dummies!_

Luffy quickly slipped into his flip-flops and charged down the stairs and onto the street. His pirate flag cape was flying behind him. He held his precious strawhat as he ran, not to lose it. Luffy didn't need to put on a pirate costume. He already was a pirate!

"Wooohoooooo! Here I come!"

Usopp had left the flat long ago, saying he would help Sanji at the Baratie with something, and telling Luffy to come help, too. _Shishishi,_ as if Luffy didn't know they just wanted to lure him there! And he decided to fall for it, but later than what time he was told. The strongest pirate warriors are always late!

There were a lot of cars around the Baratie, but that was a bad clue. People were always waiting in line to get in there. As soon as Luffy came close enough, he slowed down, then sneaked beneath the windows on his hands and feet, listening for sounds… It was quiet inside, as if nobody was there. They were really hiding well…!

"SURPRISE!" Luffy bellowed as he kicked the door in. Because that was what the birthday boy was supposed to do when arriving at their surprise party! Who would even call it a surprise otherwise?

However, when Luffy opened his eyes properly and looked around, he saw nothing but dark. Right! The lights were supposed to be switched off!

Luffy prodded around for a light switch on the wall, and… Aha! Gotcha, sneaky switch! But as light filled the huge dining room, he didn't see much more than before, either!

"Whaaaaat?!"

Nobody was around! No Usopp, no Sanji, no Chopper, no Zoro, no Nami or Robin or Franky! No nobody! All there was were a bunch of tables, but turned and kicked over, some swirly red stuff on the floor, and… Hey! Hey, there was someone sleeping there! In the middle!

"Oi!" Luffy quickly dashed over there. "Oi! You okay?" he wondered, squatting down closer. "Why are you napping down there? Are you Zoro's friend, too?"

A noise came from the person on the floor. He sounded like he had swallowed a drumstick the wrong way! Yes, Luffy could emphasize. That was so annoying!

But then, the guy moved! He shot out his hand to grip Luffy's shirt and he pulled himself up and…

"Ace?" Luffy blinked.

"Lu… ffy..." Ace was talking funny. "I'm… glad…..!" He had red swirls coming out of his chest and his mouth, and he was smiling even though he looked sad and weak, and…

"Ace…?" Ace was acting strange. What was happening to Ace…?!

"I wanted… to… tell you-," Ace coughed and shivered. "To tell you… something..."

Luffy couldn't move. It was worse than being stuck in a ball pit, or being at the bottom of a cuddle pile or being tied up in a dishcloth right before he could have gotten to the fridge! Ace wasn't okay…!

Ace then raised his other, shaky hand, placed it on Luffy's chest, and… Click? Why was there a click?

Ace let his hand slide away and Luffy looked down to where it had been. Eh? What was that? He reached down to touch the thing in his shirt. Oh, a skull! Its mouth was open and it said…

"'Number One Birthday Matey'...?" That was… so cool!

"Happy Birthday, little brother," Luffy found Ace grinning at him wide.

And as soon as Ace yanked the red swirls from his mouth and ticked Luffy's nose with them, a looot of people came jumping out from behind the tables, smiling, shouting 'Happy Birthday' and throwing even more colourful swirlies up in the air! So everyone was here! Ace was here, too! And Ace was okay…!

"Shishishishi!" Luffy laughed out loud and flomped onto his back on the floor. He was laughing so much that he had to wiggle his hands and feet with it, or else he wouldn't survive it! "Maaaan, I fell right into the trap! You guys tricked me! Shishishi!"

The whole crowd around him laughed with. And suddenly, two people grabbed the whole row of turned-over tables and took them out of the hall! Whuoooa, those guys must have been really strong! Those tables looked a bit flat and wobbly, though. And glued together..

But behind those mystery tables, there were other ones, ordinary ones, packed with fooood! Sanji stood there explaining something, but Luffy didn't hear what, because of munching on the biggest, juiciest drumstick he could find! How did that suddenly get there? Luffy had no idea. Nope. _Munch munch munch. _Oh, and takoyaki! Roasted huge fish - tiger fish, or elephant fish or dinosaur fish! What were those things called? Tomatoes? _Munch munch._ No, tomatoes were still not meat… Whoa, and steak, too! Woohoooo!

"Luffy, you rubbery bastard, I'm gonna…!"

Uh-oh! Sanji was using his his asskicking voice! Better run! Oh, wait, that string of sausages had to come with him! Luffy needed a cool and tasty accomplice!

Somebody quick, hide him from Sanji! Luffy was innocent! Haha, so many people he liked were there!

Ace had brought old man Whitebeard and the gang, with Thatch and Izo and Marco and everyone! They had showed him the awesome truck they had driven there in. It had flames on its side! Awesoooome! And they also showed how all of them could fit into it! Haha, they had done a road trip as a huuuge dogpile! Or a box of sausages! … Meat…!

His nakama were all there! Usopp and Chopper came to hug him, Zoro was all cool and shook his hand, Nami and Robin kissed his cheeks, and ugh, their lipstick was all sticky and not coming off…! Oooh, Franky, they did a bro handshake! And Sanji? Where was Sanji? And the meeeat?!

Vivi brought her friends Chaka and Pell, and oooh, so that was Kohza! And Nami's sister Nojiko, and of course grandpa Zeff! Ah, the veggie brats from Usopp's home village, too? Oh-oh, and granny Kureha, and Iceburg and the Galley-La guys! Uoooh, even Aokiji?! And andandand Tashigi and grampa Smoker! And Traffy and Kid were around, too! His pal Buggy was there, too, even though he pretended not to be reading a newspaper in the corner with old man Three. You don't come to a party to read a newspaper! Even Luffy new that, haha! Aaaaaaah, Hammock was suffocating him with her big breast balloons, nooo! Quick, Bon-chan, Iva-chan, Kani-chan, heeelp! Huh, Sanji? Why was Sanji screaming and running away? Ah, Zoro was shouting, too! Were they dancing on the floor with each other in a circle? Haha, now they were fighting! _Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!_

Oh! Who was that? Over there, by the window! Whoooa, his hair! He had an afro, so awesooome! He looked like he wanted to get inside, right? Would he wanna be friends? Luffy needed to find out!

"Ah, good evening," the tall guy said when Luffy opened the door. Whoa, he looked like a skeleton! So cool! "My name is Brook, Just-bones Brook." He had a pirate-y name! "I was wondering if I could come inside, as well. There is no music in here, which is a shame, and, well, I have a violin! See?" he gestured to the big, weird-shaped bag in his hand. "And maybe a bite to eat would be nice..."

"Oi, Luffy! Who are you letting into my shitty restaurant?" Sanji called from behind him.

"It's _my_ shitty restaurant," grandpa Zeff shouted at Sanji lovingly, "you unripe little eggplant!"

"Shut up, old geezer!"

"I'm Luffy," he gave the skeleton his name, like his gramps had taught him. "Skeleton grandpa," Luffy continued, "are you a musician?"

"Why yes, that I am, Luffy-san," the skeleguy tipped his top hat. "I am both a skeleton and a musician, actually."

"Whoaaa, are these your real bones?!" Luffy went ahead and and papped the guy's face with his hands. Ah, that felt softer than bone. Mystery bones. Oh, and he was smiling and had double rows of teeth now? "So coooool!"

"Those are tattoos, to be honest. But they are pretty real to me, still," the afro skeleton grandpa confessed. That was what counted, though, right? After all, Luffy was made out of rubber, too. Luffy was glad for him.

"And can you poop?"

"Luffy! Stop asking strangers that kind of question!" Nami yelled. "And who is that, anyway? Get away from that door, right now!"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can!" the pooping afro skeleton grandpa bowed.

"Why are you answering his question?!" Nami was now standing next to them now. Haha, she had a funny face when she was angry. Was she going to spit fire? That would have been awesome!

"Come in, then!" Luffy stepped aside to let the afro-guy enter.

"Ah," and his new friend stepped right in, "thank you ever so much."

"Are you even listening to me, you idiots?!"

Luffy and Brook could continue talking about important matters, like sea shanties and food. Right after Nami clocked Brook out for asking about her panties, and Luffy, too, because he let a stranger inside. But it was his birthday party! And he had wanted a musician on his crew for so long! And now he has one, woohooo! Best birthday ever!

"Oi, Brook or whatever you name is," Zoro was talking to Brook. No! It was Luffy's turn! He was gonna sing for him! "Come over here. He might follow you outside."

"Are you a fucking idiot?!" Sanji hit Zoro over the head, and Zoro poked Sanji in the tummy with his elbow. Ah, Luffy was so glad! Zoro and Sanji were friends now, too!

"But can he not hear you, uh… Excuse me, what is your name?"

"Roronoa Zoro."

"Ah, yes, thank you," Brook bowed his head. If Luffy didn't already have the most precious hat on his head, he would totally try on the skelegrandpa's! "Can he not hear you, too, Roronoa Zoro-san?"

"This is no time for introductions!" Usopp joined Nami in slapping both Zoro and Brook on the head. Chopper was flailing around nearby, too, calling out 'idiots'. Haha, dummies!

"Come ooon, you guys!" Franky waved to them from the door. "I can hardly keep my pants on, I'm too excited!"

"Pervert!" basically the whole crowd of guests yelled.

"OW shucks, you guys are just saying that~" Franky looked really happy! Robin, too! She was chuckling as she passed Luffy by to go outside.

"Hey, Brook!" Luffy looked up at his afro skeleton friend as they started walking together. He was so tall! "Can you sing me a pirate song?!"

"Ah, but of course! Gladly, Luffy-san!" Brook took his violin out of his funny bag so quickly! How did he do that?! "Do you know this one?" he asked, then started playing. And he sang! "_Yohohoho~ yo~hohoho~ Yohohoho~ yo~hohoho~ Binkusu no sake wo~ todoke ni yuku yo~ Umikaze kimakase namimakaseee~!"_

"Ooooh, that one! Woohooo!" Luffy cheered. He hadn't heard that song in ages! "_Shio no mukou de~ yuuhi mo sawagu~ Sora nya~ wa wo kaku, tori no utaaa~!"_ they sang together.

"Oh, I know that one!" Lola clapped her hands as she saw them come outside onto the street. She was there, too! And she started singing with them! Awesome!

More and more others joined the song as they were walking around the Baratie. Some people even danced, like that moonwalker guy - 'one, two, Jango,' he kept saying, haha! Luffy felt like dancing, too!

Brook was just playing the song to its end after the last round of 'yohoho'-s, when Luffy noticed that they had gone back behind the Baratie to the parking lot. Hey, how did they get there? And what was a huuuge present like that doing there?! It was covered in a looot of bedsheets, and it had a giant ribbon and everything! Did his giant friends from the seven seas come to the party, too?!

Suddenly, his nakama ran ahead, grabbed the sheets, made funny noises and faces, and then pulled the whole thing down! It fluttered like a giant seamonster! So awesome! And what waited under that big blanket was...!

"This is the Thousand Sunny!" they cheered together. "O Captain, Our Captain! Happy Birthday!"

"Whuooooooow, a pirate ship!" Luffy's eyes and smile were so wide it hurt! "It's a pirate ship!"

Luffy was jumping up and down, his cape flapping. His arms were doing all kinds of rubbery tangling, he was so excited! The flags had the same jolly roger he had painted on the flag on his back! And it was so biiig and had a figurehead and even a crow's nest and and…! He ran right to it to tipper-tapper his hands along the hull, jump up on deck, try to climb the mast, crawl up onto the figurehead, slide down the railing…!"

"Soooo awesooooome!"

Luffy took his strawhat off and flapped it in the air, bouncing up and down until he was out of breath and plopped down on his butt onto the car park's pavement. Shanks had said he would have to leave for the great seas. He had said he couldn't take Luffy with him, but he had told him to go and find him, give his most precious hat back to him. Once he was the greatest pirate of them all…!

Grasping his strawhat tightly, Luffy pressed it down hard on his head. He tried not to crinkle the rim too hard. It was okay to cry. As long as he didn't give up on his dreams, it was okay to cry…!

"You guys…!" he sniffled and rubbed at his nose. "I have the best nakama ever!" He cried out, then sprang back onto his feet and ran to them, to his most precious friends, his family, wanting to hug all of them at the same time!

"Oi Luffy..!" there was Zoro…

"Haha! Hey, careful, you'll rip it…!" … and Nami…

"Luffy! Haha, hey, Luffy, you're pulling my hair!" … and Usopp…

"Oi oi oi, you big shitty baby, watch it!" … and Sanji...

"Luffy! I'm down here, down here!" … and Chopper…

"Fufufu, what a happy captain-san." … Robin, too…

"OW! So touching…!" … and Franky… "C'mon over here, you guys!"

"_Oi, Franky, put us down!"_

"Wait, wait, let me join, too! Yohohoho!" … and now Brook, too…!

Luffy had friends, so many friends surrounding him, wishing him well. And even if he couldn't be with all of his blood-related family, maybe not ever, his most precious people were all there with him! With a crew like that, Luffy could go anywhere!

"_Let's set sail! Wahooooo!"_

The engines were warming up as everyone boarded ship. The Franky Family's old truck had gotten a makeover, too, all shiny and wave-patterned! Haha, Usopp, Sanji and Chopper had been so blue in the face by the time they had been done! Luffy had been handed an envelope full of photos of how his very own pirate ship had been made; Sanji hanging upside down and tying the sails in place, Nami posing with the steering wheel, Robin's selfie with Franky's but peeking out, Usopp's heroic pose on top of the lion squid rabbit tiger figurehead, Zoro with three brooms instead of swords, Vivi hiding from the camera and Chopper asleep on her lap… Luffy's Pirates of the Caribbean poster had to go! His wall had a new mission now!

The envelope jumped in his hand as the truck started rolling, and he had to grab after it with both hands to catch it. Phew, that was close! The wind was picking up fast, so he tucked the photos safely into his inner shirt pocket, and held onto his strawhat with one palm. The Baratie and the main road fell away faster and faster behind them, and the distant horizon was inching closer, with each yelp and giggle floating up to Luffy's ears from everyone on board. Luffy was on top of the world! He just knew his seat on the figurehead was the best spot!

And they travelled far and wide, followed by the eyes of friends and strangers, onto new adventures! They left downtown; the clubs, the plaza, the sports centre, and oh, that was their flat! They zoomed across uptown, past the the residential area, the library, the university, the training hospital; and then they even left the outskirts, with the junkyard and the factory!

And father, farther still, Luffy could already see the shoreline! And maybe that, over there, was the roof of gramps's old cabin, where he had used to spend so many summers with Sabo and Ace…!

Suddenly, there was a bump on the road so big that when the truck hit it, Luffy's butt actually bounced up in the air and plopped back down! They have gotten into a real sea storm on their first sail!

"Mayday! Mayday!" Franky shouted from somewhere below, stopping the truck and jumping out of it. "OW, SUPER unbelievable!" he almost fell into the engine compartment, tinkering, clattering... "Looks like the engine's busted for good!"

"Whaaat?!" Buggy exclaimed.

"We're stuck here now?!" Mr. Three joined in, and he almost jumped over the rail, from the panic that started spreading behind his back.

"Hey, Franky!" Nami quickly got off ship, stopped to let a car pass by, then walked over to the engine hood. Should Luffy go see, too? Captains do that. Well, he jumped off the figurehead to take a peek, anyhow. "Why didn't you double-check before we headed out?"

"Naw, Nami sis, I even _triple_-checked! It was still all cool this morning!"

"Maybe the ship proved to be just too heavy, after all," Robin mused, all mysteriously, from the outer rail near them. "I am just glad that it didn't fall off the frame, roll for hours through roads and hills and rocks and then crash down onto us..."

"O-oi, Robin, stop saying stuff like that…!" Usopp called out from a lower deck window and looked around nervously at each wooden creak.

"We should just send someone back to the junkyard for a tow truck," reasoned Nami. "Since everyone of the Franky House is here, we can't exactly call anyone..."

"And who would walk all the way back there, Waina?!" Kiwi complained.

"Yeah, Waina!" Mozu agreed.

"And even if someone went back, the other truck is smaller that this one," Franky slammed the engine hood shut. Ouch, almost caught! Luffy was still looking, you know! "Even if everyone hopped off, not sure it could move the whole thing-a-majig..."

"Well, either that tow truck, or we _all_ walk and leave the Sunny behind." Nami huffed. "We don't have any other choice, do we?" she added, and she rubbed her forehead like she usually does when Luffy did something exciting. It wasn't him this time!

Nami then pushed past both him and Franky, though, and quickly climbed inside the ship. There was a funny creaking noise coming from the inside of the hull, and all of a sudden, a little door opened on the side of the ship! Whoooa, it can do that, too?! And then, through that tiny door, one of those cool blow-up slides rolled out, and Nami leapt off deck just in time to catch the boat-shaped mini-scooter that slid off it! It had a figurehead, too - a lamb?

"Aaaah, Merry!" Luffy cried out. Their playing boat as kids, revived!

"It's the Mini Merry!" Franky exclaimed. "With an ultra turbo high speed switch, enhanced breaks, can go on land _and_ on water, runs with eco fuel-"

"I'm taking the Mini Merry for a spin to the junkyard," Nami announced, not even listening to the awesome stuff Franky was talking about! Well, Luffy didn't really get all of it, but it was still cool!

"Ugh, fine!" Franky pouted. "You're gonna need this, then! Catch!"

As soon as Nami caught Franky's keyring, she stepped on the pedal and zoomed right off! Luffy wanted to ride, too…!

"Nami, come back! They took your license, remember?!" Vivi called after her, waving both arms, but Luffy didn't think the dust she left behind cared too much. Hehe, Kohza had to grab her waist to keep her from falling!

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that. As a gift. You're welcome, Strawhat," old man Smoker hopped down onto the road, lighting his two cigars. Those were like smoked meat without the meat. Luffy stuck with meat. Meeeat...

"So… What now?" Sanji hit his stinky sticks, too, leaning his back against the rails.

"That is up to our captain to decide," Robin smiled down on Luffy. "Isn't it, Luffy?"

"Yeah," Zoro emerged and climbed onto the railing, and then jumped down, just like that. Zoro was so cool! "But I think we should just give this thing a push," he gave the Sunny's hull a pat. A loud pat, shishishi! People on the lower deck were all fidgety! "What do you say, captain?"

"A push?" Usopp came sticking out his head through the closest window. Bwahha, his hair didn't fit through! "So you think getting this thing that weighs about _a bazillion tons_ all the way back to the city is just a _push?! _It would take hours-"

"Okay!"

"What?!" Usopp was hanging out the window with his arms like a stuffed animal. Was he gonna cry? "L-Luffy, you can't mean…!"

"Zoro! Everyone! Let's do it!" Luffy gave out the captain's command. Another adventure awaited!

"Come on, Usopp!" Chopper pulled Usopp's flabby, deflated body from the window and sprinted to the front of the truck where Zoro was heading towards. "Captain's orders!"

"Aa," Zoro nodded, and leaned his palms against the truck's bumpers. "Ready."

"Tch. Guess it can't be helped…" Sanji also came jumping down all cool-like, too, and took his place next to Zoro at the headlights. "Gotta make sure this idiot doesn't start pulling this thing the wrong way."

"Shut up, you damn-!"

"Vyou two can go on flirting later, boys!" Iva-chan's cape fluttered as he jumped down onto the top of the truck, and slid down from there! Awesome! "Vwe have work to do! Come on down, candies, and give these cuties a hand! HEE-HAW!"

"Go in front! Not here, to the _front!_ Someone needs to pull! Right?! Go pull!" Whoa, Sanji was so pumped!

"OWWright, everyone abandon ship! We're gonna use the time while we wait for Nami sis!" Franky announced, and as the people all hopped down from the decks, he went to the driver door of the truck, pulled the window down and reached inside, ready to push from there.

"Be careful, there might be cars! Don't hurt yourselves!" Chopper warned, helping the guests off the ship.

"I'm only bones, but I'll do my best!" Maaan, Brook could run fast! Luffy would _have_ to ask him to compete against him on the Mini Merry!

"Yosh! I'm gonna pull, too!" Luffy decided. The captain should go in front to lead the crew, right? "Iva-chan, over here!" he grabbed the metal frame at the back of the Sunny as tightly as he could.

"Oi, you, strawhat! You think your lame underhand grip's gonna move _my_ metal? Here!" Eustass Kid leapt down from the ship, and shoved a giant snake at him! Luffy had to punch him awa-

"That HURTS! Owowow!"

"It's just a chain, Strawhat-ya" stepping up to him came Traffy took care of hooking the chain tightly onto the frame. "Here," he shoved some into Luffy's hands. "Don't ask me why he had it, though. Nor him."

"I _heard_ that, Trafalgar!"

"Pops, you hear that, yoi? This ship needs a little pull!" Marco appeared to grab a hold of the chain.

"Gurarara, loud and clear, son!" and right behind him appeared the huge old man Whitebeard, to fold some of the chain over his shoulder. "Boys, get in the back and push! Let's get little Luffy's ship sailin' on home!"

"Come on, Luffy," Ace came in front, too. There was barely any chain for him left now! "Let's go!"

"_Yeeeeah!"_

"_Uno! … Dos! … Trés!"_

On Robin's count, the front team began pulling until their teeth clattered, and the guys in the back pushed their weight against the truck, grunting as if they were making the giant island of poop Usopp was always telling them stories about. And those who wouldn't fit anywhere hugged the Sunny at her sides and pressed on from there. It took some more funny noises and stomping around to get the ship moving, but it finally started crabbing backwards! By the time they saw Nami driving the tow truck towards them, they were almost at the outskirts, yay! They had to turn the big tow truck and the Sunny around first. But after booing off all the cars that came to interrupt them and not letting the Sunny slide off the narrow highway, the rest was easy as meatballs!

With the small truck pulling the front and everyone shoving against the ship from the back, they were at the Baratie again in no time! And old man Zeff was waiting for them! Grumbling for being late, but still waiting, with all that _foooood!_

Luffy ate through the seven course meal twice. That was what the others told him, at least, but Luffy didn't really check. 'When you're hungry, eat,' the popular saying went. No time for thinking!

Jumping around on the balloon castle outside until dark was super awesome! And after the tables had been cleared away and they had sat Brook down to the piano, Luffy did the monkey together with Ace, like old times! Franky, Usopp and Chopper jumped right in, too, wooo! It was really hard to make Zoro dance with them, though, but very easy to get him and Sanji to have a dance-off! Too bad old man Zeff kicked them both out after they started fighting on the floor… It was just getting good!

Phew, all that bouncing sure made a rubber pirate hungry! And there was just one thing for Luffy to do in that situation…

"Saaaanjiii! Sanji, where are you?! I'm hungryyy! Make me curry shriiimp…!"

Luffy looked all over for Sanji! In the toilets was only Buggy doing his make-up. Wow, he screamed pretty loud, and he even threw paper at Luffy! Rude!

In the kitchen, Patty and Carne were arm-wrestling - Luffy had to stay and cheer them on! Until his tummy reminded him of his mission!

Then, in the supply room, he saw Vivi, between Nami and Kohza, doing… a line dance? But they were standing too close to move their feet and Nami was facing Vivi! That wasn't how it went! And why were they almost naked? Was there hot in there? Eww, and they were kissing a lot, too… But Vivi looked really happy, so Luffy was glad!

Moving on, Luffy didn't find Sanji under Hammock's robes, either. Even though she had said she was sure he was there! Hammock was silly.

Ahhh, Luffy should have known! Of course Zoro and Sanji were at the balloon castle! Luffy had barely been able to stop bouncing around on it himself, it was so awesome! Maybe they would wanna see who of them can jump higher? Only after Sanji would cook something yummy, though.

Luffy had wanted them to meet for sooo long now! If Zoro had transferred to their school in elementary, and not the end of high school when Sanji had had to leave, they could have been the school's Monster Trio! Hey, maybe they still could become the Monster Trio, but of the whole city this time! Awesoooooome!

Luffy was still a bit hurt that he hadn't been the one to introduce the two of them, though. But Nami had said they were like peas in a pod! Or pigs in the mud? Fish in the free? What did that even mean? Owww, Luffy always got a headache whenever he tries to think about it…Probably because he was hungry. But Luffy figured it must have meant that they were best friends now! All of Luffy's nakama finally knew each other now, too! Wooohooooo!

"-and you weren't half bad, either. For a stupid cook."

See? Besties.

"Care to remind me how many times I had to kick you in the ass so you wouldn't turn the fucking ship in the wrong direction?"

"Shut up. I was trying to do it the easier way."

"Easier for who? The Thousand Sunny to tumble the fuck down into that shitty ditch beside the road?"

"You never shut up, do you?"

"Not for the sake of your suck-ass pride I don't, no. Also, this is my second can of beer. I can't stand your moldy mug sober. Something has to take the edge off, you know."

"Huh… You don't say. I kinda noti-"

"Saaanjiiii! Food!"

Luffy ran towards them in full gomu-gomu mode! He really couldn't wait any longer! He was _starving!_ Besides, they weren't talking about anything exciting or important, like balloon castle jumping or feeding Luffy… Maybe Sanji will cook faster if he tackled him to the ground first! Sanji likes fighting!

"You've already eaten all of the food we had in stock, you shitty rubber!" Sanji's shoe sole was still not softer against his face…

"Oi, watch it!" and Zoro was still too hard to land on! Luffy's life was nothing but hard… "You… You made me spill my beer, you bastard!" Uh-oh…! Luffy already knew it wasn't a good idea to come between Zoro and booze.

"Sorry, gotta go!"

Luffy tried to run away, but Zoro nabbed him by his shirt and made him bounce right back. Luffy kept _telling _how he was rubber! See? He wished that would have helped him when Sanji closed in, and it didn't seem to matter to him which one of them he kicked in the ass…

"OW! You hit me, too, stupid cook!"

"It's your fault for being in the way, dipshit swordsman!"

"_My_ fault?! As if! Insect repellent brow!"

"What was that, you rancid weed plantation?!"

Zoro and Sanji looked like they were brawling just fine on their own. It wouldn't hurt for Luffy to just… sneak out beneath their feet, right? It would definitely not hurt Luffy. He guessed it was time to see if Patty and Carne were as aggressive with guarding the fridge as Sanji was...


	7. Snack Time 2: Howl

**Snack Time #2: Howl**

Seeing the gym's nameplate from the corner of the street, Sanji gripped the straps of his backpack tighter. His bag was heavier now than usual, but what the hell. He would rather die before binging on shitty junk food again after workout, just because it was the closest takeaway thing available. And it didn't exactly kill him to cook a little more for dinner than usual...

The shitty green asshole was nowhere to be seen on the premises, as usual. However, when Sanji tried to turn the key in the lock of the main entrance, it didn't seem to yield. Weird. Had they changed the lock? Better not… Sanji didn't feel like paying for a broken door. Hmm, what if it was just stuck?

"Whoooa shit shit shit!"

After firmly pushing down the doorhandle, Sanji fell right inside through the door that had unexpectedly swung open, and banged against it as it collided with the inner wall loudly. Ow, his nose! Jesus fucking shit!

Sanji pushed himself back from the door, gave it a hard, strict stare, then kicked it shut. So. Already unlocked, huh? That could have only meant one thing, however impossible it seemed...

Following up on his suspicion, Sanji made his way towards the east wing of the gym, instead of his usually frequented training hall in the northern part. Yep, the lights were on in the kendo hall. With its windows and sliding doors shut, it looked like one giant paper lantern. Okay, it was actually kinda pretty. Not very practical, and really fucking out of place in the gym, but still pretty. And imagining that clot of horseshit Zoro, dressed like Cho-Cho-san, dancing and prancing about inside… That had just made his evening, Sanji decided, only mildly wheezing.

There already was a pair of worn-looking trainers on a mat near the door. Sanji slipped off his own dress shoes to put neatly beside them.

"Oi, Madame Marimo," Sanji unceremoniously slid the training hall's door open, "you in… here…?"

He quieted down, however, after spotting the figure sitting in front of the small shrine at the back of the hall. It had to be the shitty mosshead, all right. Nobody in their right mind would have ever worn a patch of grass as hair. He was sitting perfectly still, not even turning around to the sound of door opening, with his back straight and his legs crossed. Was he actually… meditating? Huh. Who would have thought the fartbrain was religious.

Slowly letting his bag slide onto the floor, Sanji approached the strangely solemn-looking Marimo. Zoro's arms were crossed as well, he could see, and a sword hilt was peeking out over his shoulder. Were training swords supposed to have such an ornate hilt, though...?

Sanji could get close enough to crouch directly to his left side. Either the moldbrain was so into it he didn't take note of his approach, or just sucked so badly at focusing that he had left himself wide open like the unbearable fucktard he was. Sanji could sneak all the way around him to face him! Such a fucking loser dipshit. Wait a sec, was that a _belly warmer_ around his waist? Pfft, holy shit, modern day kendo grandpa... Okay, a closer look at the sword in the asshole's arms made it pretty clear that it was the real deal. He brought a real fucking katana? Jesus take a shit, what a shitty show-off…

"Ma~ri~mo~ Wakey-wakey," Sanji called, still squatting in front of the green asshole.

He even waved his palm, an inch away from his nose, but the shitty bastard just didn't as much as flutter his eyelid. Not a flinch, not a burp, nothing. Was that germ-ridden morsel of gooseshit ignoring him now? That was how it was, huh?!

"Oi!" Sanji stood and prodded the shitstain's shoulder with his toe. "I said, wake up! Hey!" This fucking pot of rancid algae salad…!

Nope, the next shove wasn't really a shove anymore. Served the shitty asshole right! Funnily enough, Zoro didn't move to dodge; he simply toppled over to the left, and only seemed to want to move when his sword loudly clattered against the tatami.

"Ngh… Huh…?" he groaned, blinking his eyes open. Then he yawned. He fucking yawned! Had the fuckface fallen asleep while meditating?! What the ever loving shit?! "Ah," the green bastard glanced up at him, infuriatingly oblivious, "it's you."

"'It's you,' my ass! Who did you expect, your fairy fartmother?! Why the hell were you asleep in that position, you sorry excuse of a swordsman?! And here I thought you were actually doing something moderately respectable for once! Man, was I naive!"

"Shut up, will you? So noisy..." Zoro sat upright and scratched his head, grabbing Wado Ichimonji and yawning again. The swirly bastard was still making no sense at all. Same old, same old. "I was sleeping."

"You don't say, moss-for-brains! I could figure that out on my own! The question is why you were sleeping in a meditating pose with a shitty fucking sword as a damn teddy bear!" Sanji's head was already boiling over and they haven't even started yet. Today's sparring would be a tough one again. Perfect.

"This is a shinto shrine, smartass. You're not supposed to meditate here. Not that it matters. I don't believe in any god."

"Who cares what god a ball of moss _doesn't_ pray to?!" Wow, this guy really had a knack for getting unnecessarily pissed-off. Even when he wasn't drunk.

"I got off work two hours ago and didn't have enough time to go home to sleep. So I took a nap here," Zoro explained with a sigh. "There. Satisfied?"

"Two hours?" Sanji raised his ridiculously curly eyebrow. That wasn't the point, damn idiot… "You live that far?"

"Uh, at the residence park district. Why?"

"That's, like, fifteen minutes from here," Sanji made a face that said he was looking down on him more than was required to look at someone sitting on the floor. "So it _is_ true," and his face just kept turning into an even uglier, cunning grimace. "You have as much sense of direction as the hearty clump of moss that you are! That's hilarious," and he roared with laughter, that damn bastard! "Little lost Marimo boy, afraid to go home…!"

"Like hell!" Zoro sprang to his feet, tucking Wado into his haramaki. "I don't get lost!"

"Oooh, look at meee! I don't get looost, I only take shortcuts~" the shitty cook mocked and flailed his arms around like a damn idiot.

"Shut the hell up! So what if I wanted to be the one waiting for you this time?!"

Oh. Okay, that came out kind of strange...

"What the-?" Not even that blabbermouth Sanji could produce a snappy remark. Damn him, of all the times he could have lost his snark… "Whuh…?" So was the idiot's face flushing red because he was getting royally pissed again, or was he…?

"Uh…" Hold on, was _Zoro _getting embarrassed now?! Ugh, that damn…! "'Cause why should _you_ always get to choose the training grounds? Shitty unfair cook," he finally grumbled.

Sanji's expression didn't change, though. The idiot was just standing there, staring at him, with that wide-eyed, flustered expression that didn't really help Zoro decide if he should prepare for a furious roundhouse kick or… Or another kind of assault, and… Shit, he found his gaze drift to the side, what the heck…

And then...

"Haha…!"

Sanji was sporting a wry smile, but otherwise stayed rigidly still. Right before he snorted loudly and burst out laughing, clutching his stomach with both hands. _That little…!_

"Hahahaha! This is priceless!" the bastard wiped actual tears from his eyes. "Not only do you get lost all the fucking time, _you're _butthurt about always being late?! Of fucking course I'm going to choose the room if you don't show your face on time!" And in just a second, he switched over to looking ready to explode on the spot! "You pathetic glob of green snot! What do you expect me to do? Stand around and wait for you, like some sort of fanatic schoolgirl in a mini skirt with a lovey-dovey lunchbox?!"

"I don't wanna hear this coming from you, you damn pervert!"

"What did you just call me, you single-layered roll of shitpaper?! It's not like I'm the one prancing around without my shirt all the fucking time!" Who was the shitty Marimo to call Sanji a pervert? That motherfucking mossball was checking out his gym shorts and thought he didn't notice, Sanji just knew it! That disgusting son of a dried barfstain!

"What was that? You take off yours in here all the time, too! And you have no right to call me a perv after what you did at the party in the Zombie Night!"

"Oh, you mean where I beat you to bloody shit?" Sanji smirked.

The shitty swordsman was back to looking like an overripe tomato, along with the green leaves atop his head. Perfect for pureeing to a bloody red pulp. With a sack of rocks. And a toilet seat. And some kicks, for good measure.

"That fight wasn't fair, and you now that!"

"Well duh! I was fucking wasted," Sanji agreed. "But I kicked your sorry ass all the same, didn't I?" he boasted.

Well, to be perfectly honest, only the most horrific details came back to him about the party, right after Robin-chwan's talent show. And there was picture evidence that he was wearing… glitter and… Nonono, Sanji wouldn't fucking go there! That never happened!

So, anyway, since Sanji remembered less than squat about the party, he was only 99% sure he had won. What else could have happened, from how battered the stupid green bastard had looked the day after? _And _because Sanji could have kicked his ass with just his little toe, of fucking course. Why else would the stinkin' Marimo be fuming out of his ears about it otherwise? The asshole was _such_ a sore loser…

"You cheated!"

"Whaaat?!" How fucking _dare he…?!_

"You heard me! First you drank yourself prom-queen wasted-" What the shit was he talking about? "- and then you went ahead to wreck shit in the toilets, threw a damn hissy fit when I tried to stop you, and then you-!"

"Blah blah fucking blah, you rotten pile of kelp! Nobody wants to hear your shitty lame excuses for having your ass handed to you!" And Sanji definitely had enough of the asshole reminding him of that fucking party… "We came here to fight, yeah? So guess what, mossbrain! Your stinkin' ass's trip around the world is gonna happen again! Really fucking soon!"

"Yeah? And there you are, standing around and wasting your spit all over the place! You're so full of crap!"

"You shitty Marimo head…!"

"Come at me already," Zoro's hand flew to his sword hilt, "you fucking bastard!"

Zoro flicked Wado Ichimonji's hilt loose from its scabbard with his thumb. Flinching the slightest bit, Sanji's gaze noticeably dropped to the flash of steel. The prissy cook's right foot instinctively slid back on the floor, even if the bastard stubbornly only allowed it an inch. The look of a man that had never faced a katana before. Zoro let a grin slip onto his face. This should be good.

"Ha! Bet you've never even used that thing before. You shitty show-off," Sanji was back to his stupid little sneer soon, however.

"And what do I win if I cut you to ribbons?"

"Yeeeah no, fat chance," that haughty little fuck wrinkled his nose and flapped his hand about. Angry Bird. He was a fucking Angry Bird. "As if your lame ass could even land a hit at me with that! You abominable grass sucker!" Look at that stupid idiot. Zoro had to admit, the shitty cook was pretty amusing when angry.

"Huh. Admit it, you're scared shitless," Zoro taunted. Maybe if he pissed the damn sissy off enough, he might flap his arms some more and take flight... "But don't shit in your pants, stupid cook. I'm gonna use the back of the blade, just for you."

"That's fucking it, you shitty fartbreath swordsman! I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you, make you eat it and make you thank me for the fucking meal!"

Sanji charged forward so hard that the wooden floor was burning beneath his feet. Lightning quick, he whipped his leg in the air, wanting nothing more than to kick that asshole Marimo's shitty grinning head to the curb. He was so _fucking dead…!_

Zoro saw the kick coming, that fucking shithead! Sanji's leg swung through air with nothing to break his speed, and he spun right over the green fuckface's head, to land wobbly and with his back to the shitty bastard. Another steely click threatened from behind, and Sanji could barely twist away from the slash. Strands of loose hair fell into his eyes, and he couldn't see shit, but he felt it in his bones that he had about one second to bend back more, touch the ground with his fingers and flip back from the next sword strike flashing his way.

The floor burned under his bare feet again as he slid back, then stopped in a crouch. Sanji reached up to get his bangs out of his eyes. And when he held his hand away, whole locks of hair fluttered down between his fingers, and there was suddenly much more light invading his vision…

"You crazy fucking shithead!" No way the back of a sword could have been that sharp, that fucking cheat!

"Hah, so you have _two_ dartboards on your face! And here I thought you couldn't look more like an idiot if you tried!"

And Sanji could see the mutant green gorilla uncomfortably clearly in front of him, slashing that shitty piece of metal like he owned the fucking place, laughing his stinkin' ass off! Oh, what a delight it would be to see the shithead battered into tiny pieces and made into a fucking shashlik…!

"Well, nobody in their right mind would ever look at _your_ shitty mug, even if you had a target drawn on it!" Sanji stood. "And methinks you don't need that ugly broccoli-head of yours!"

After another one of his idiotic speeches, Sanji jumped in for another attack. One erratic kick flew towards Zoro's head after the other. He was surprised the stupid bastard hadn't likened his scalp to a damn football yet. And what else really surprised him was how Sanji could keep going on being royally pissed all the time without ever getting tired of being a lanky, flailing, screaming knot of compressed pure rage. That didn't mean Zoro wouldn't stop trying to exhaust him. He jumped and twisted away from the blond's next high kick, crouched down onto the floor to deliver a sweeping cut to his shin, and followed with his eyes where the cook's spinning jump would let him land. Then it was time for pursuit. Quickly, Zoro turned around to deliver his next blow aimed at Sanji's upper body. The blade caught the skin of the bastard's arm in a thin red streak before he could whirl away.

Then Sanji came sliding back in to try and knock Wado out of his hand with a low kick. Heh, as if it was that easy. Zoro simply swapped the hilt over into his left hand, swinging down towards the floor, but Sanji's leg was still coming down on his right hand, and the impact deterred his strike to crush a dent into the floor instead. Shit.

"So this is what you call a fair fight?!" the damn cook screeched, huffing as he leapt away from a sideway slash. "I'm not even wearing any shitty shoes!"

"How's that unfair? I'm not wearing any, either!" Zoro reasoned, jumping after him.

"Fuck you, you cum guzzling batshit bastard!"

If that rotten hairy asshole insisted so fucking much, fine! Two could play that shitty game!

Sanji flipped into a handstand from the next blade-strike towards his upper body. Fuck if the smelly bastard would make him use his arms again. Did he really think Sanji wouldn't fucking notice?!

All there was left from that position was to gain momentum with swinging both his legs up, then roll back all the way to the kendo hall's entrance. The look on the moldhead's face when he realized what he was aiming for was priceless. Sanji showed him his teeth in the nastiest grin he could muster, slipping into his shoes.

"Ohho..." Zoro swished his katana to the side. The growing smirk on his ugly visage was making Sanji's stomach churn and tighten. And his blood boil… "So we're going all out, eh?"

Instead of charging, though, the shitty Marimo stepped over to the closest side wall. And just like that, he hooked his foot around the two other katana that so happened to be lying around propped up there, and hauled them both up to catch in his right hand, before he stuck them into his ridiculous belly warmer next to the empty white scabbard of the first one.

"What the flying pigeon shit is that getup supposed to be?! Three swords? Fucking _three?"_

"Yeah," the asshole just shrugged and unsheathed a second sword. "Three-sword style is my speciality," he looked about as proud of himself as a three-year-old squatting over his first spiralic pile of poop.

"You can't even hold that many," Sanji slapped the doorframe in desperation, repeatedly, "you conceited armada of powdered bullshit! Where do you put the third one, huh? Through your left eye socket?! Up your mangy ass?!"

Zoro only scoffed at that, and then, as if to answer Sanji's question, he raised the white sword up and… He took the hilt between his fucking teeth?!

"That's it? That's your oh-so-great technique? Using your sword as a shitty dog bone?!" Sanji dearly wished to wake up, since that day couldn't possibly be more than a crazy fucking dream… "You couldn't even swing that thing without knocking your own damn teeth out!"

"Damn swirly-brow," the shitty Marimo's empty hand moved to pull the third sword free from its scabbard. "Worry about your own teeth!"

"How can you even talk with that shit in your mou-?! Hey!"

No more playing nice. The two katana ready in his hands, Zoro wasted not another second to attack that prissy blond right where he stood, in the dojo door. Shit, no, wait, the doorframe would go with it, damn-!

"Gh-!"

Blades clattering against each other, the sword points halted a mere breath away from the wooden frame of the shôji. But it wasn't Zoro stopping them on time. No, pushing against their crossing point was a leather shoe, with a bent leg countering its force with fearful strength. The shitty cook parried his swords with his damn shoe…?!

"Ha!," the cook snorted. "Now you won't have even the," he shifted his weight into his defending leg, "abandoned pile of," bent his knee and let the swords go further, before, "shit of a chance!" Sanji called out, kicking forward so fiercely that he pushed Zoro back along with his swords. Shit!

The hilts threatened to be twisted right out of his grip, so Zoro had no other choice but to back off and retract his weapons. He had no time to catch his breath, though, for Sanji's leaping, flying kick came crashing down on him, and he would have had to wear a dent instead of a head, had he not thrust his crossed swords up to ward himself. His bent knees absorbed most of the impact, but damn, it hurt like hell! The bastard cook really meant business this time.

Zoro couldn't hold back his growing smirk. Oh yes. This was gonna be fun.

"Orrraaaaa!"

Zoro gathered all his upper arm strength to push back against the kick, and finally forced the cook to back off with a cross-cleaving attack. Sanji's shoes squeaked on the wooden floor with his hard, stomping landing, then again when he moved to charge, firing a series of aerial kicks to clash against the backs of Zoro's blades; a dozen warded off, but just as many of them hitting home.

A hundred times the three katana sang in the air and a thousand kicks whistled, sweat and blood and dents were strewn on the floor, and both of them went down crashing, too, more times than they bothered to count. Sanji was covered in cuts and bleeds, and his T-shirt went to ruin along with one of his shoes cleaved in half, while Zoro was black and blue all over, with a dislocated jaw and broken toenails. And yet, they were both on their feet, gasping for air. Laughing to themselves as they exhaled…

Stomping his naked foot forth, Sanji moved in for an attack. First a high-kick he already knew the algae-head would knock aside, but that collision gave him just enough zest to swing that leg back onto the ground, and bury the other one in the asshole's side, hard. Zoro coughed and stumbled away, that shithead.

As soon as the Marimo regained his footing, though, he came on strong, slashing one sword, than the other, then spun around to make all three of his blades a threat. And maybe they would have been, for some weak-ass loser. But for Sanji? Child's play.

Sanji was about to stylishly spin away from one of the grass-brained asshole's double-strikes. He thought he heard a sound… A ripping kind of noise. He was just about to ignore it, too, but as it turned out, he had to find out the reason, whether he liked it or not. The issue having been that his non-shredded shoe suddenly became kind of airy. And light. By the time Sanji could look down, the shoe sole that had come loose had already twisted awkwardly under his foot, and of fucking course he had to trip in his own feet and fall back onto the floor like a shitty comedy relief out of a fucked-up kids' show. Fuck Sanji's life, seriously. Fuck it so fucking hard.

Well, at least the stinkin' Marimo was so ridiculously startled by the whole ordeal that kicking the swords out of his hands was like putting frosting on a cake. However, apparently, that freed up the fartface's hands to grab after him!

After yet another glorious fall onto his ass, Sanji had his hands full with a slobbery face and a stinky sweaty neaderthal chest trying to choke him with his bio weapon grade stench. Once he could get his feet beneath the slimy bastard's stomach and hauled him the fuck off himself. However, when he crawled over to keep the rancid cumsplurt on the floor, the fucker grabbed his lower arms and wouldn't fucking let go! Ow, those cuts were starting to hurt like a motherfucker...

"Oi oi! I'm- not buying that- you- do- judo, too, you- shitty- gorilla samurai!"

"Give it up!" Zoro demanded, straining his arms back, red-faced. "Agh! Shitty cook!"

"Like fuck I will! Gnh!"

Sanji gasped as his back slammed onto the hard wooden flooring again. But fuck if he'd let the asshat do as he pleased. He kicked the abominable mossbrain's stomach, then toppled him over, but the fucktard shoved him backwards with his mutant arms and jumped over him to pin him down. Sanji had to head-butt the piece-of-shit swordsman several times to gain the upper head again. And once he snared the green shit-eater's arms with his legs, victory was his.

Oh? So the damnable son of lawnmower satan still didn't have enough yet? His slimy brute fist was gripping Sanji's hair so hard it could have drawn tears. His fucking basalt forehead was already bloody from headbutting, was he really big enough of a shitty idiot to-?

Zoro's grip yanked Sanji's head closer, but the expected impact never arrived. The attack proved to be much more dangerous. Much more defeating.

The tiny smacking sound was so out of place Sanji could have screamed from it, and when the pressure on his head subsided, he sat up so abruptly that his head reeled from it. His lips were tingling where Zoro's had nipped at them just before. They still were when he touched his fingertips to them. Prodded them. Started clawing and rubbing them with force…

"What… What did you…!"

Sanji couldn't breathe. It wasn't happening. It couldn't be fucking happening…!

"We're even now," Zoro declared. His stare was unflinching as his lisp curled up into a smirk. "You owed me."

"Owed you? Fucking _owed you?!_ What the ever-loving shitfuck are you babbling about?!"

"You cheated first, so now I used your own trick against you," the shitty fartbreath offered. Making no fucking sense!

"At the Zombie Night, you idiot. Yeah-yeah, you don't remember. But you ki-"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You crazy perverted Marimo head! I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

Sanji's eyes popped wide open, like a damn maniac! He whirled his torso to the side with amazing speed, and slapped his palms down on the floor so hard that even listening to it hurt. And with Zoro's arms held tightly in his folded legs, the crazy cook just went ahead and threw Zoro up in the air, and then sent him rolling and slamming into the wooden pedestal of the altar, with incense sticks crumbling and falling all over him. And Sanji was already standing over him, landing a powerful kick into his stomach.

"You fucking-! It's you, it's-! It's all your shitty fucking fault!" the blond was _shrieking,_ determined to make minced meat out of him!

Zoro needed to gather his all into his arms to grab the bastard's foot and stop it, and another well-timed move to snatch Sanji's wrist and tear him off his one supporting leg to the ground. The cook bounced right back up, shooting both his legs towards Zoro's groin, from which he rolled away from just barely. His heel pushed against Kitetsu's hilt on the floor, aiding him in parrying the next kick flying his way. Sanji kept on charging, kicking, screaming, chasing Zoro back and back, until he was in the dojo door. What was the shitty cook up to?!

The gym hallway was as unlit as they had left it. Zoro had trained outside at night before, but the narrow, pitch black hallways, with a rampaging Sanji on the loose posed a new kind of challenge. The walls suffered dents and scratches of all kinds of origins, they fought up a stairway and back down again, slammed against doors, stumbled on carpets...

When Zoro's flailing hand finally found a light switch, the east wing bathroom's tiles almost blinded them with their whiteness. Sanji's spinning kick sent Zoro keeling over the sink digging into his aching abdomen, and he tripped and fell into one of the showers to dodge the next one.

"Aaaaahhh! Cold! Fucking cold! Fuck fuck fuck shitty fucking fuck, fuck you, fuck!"

It took a full-blown stream of icy cold water right into his face to get the cook to snap out of whatever was driving him deliriously mad. The screaming, drenched blond caught on very soon, however, and Zoro received his own dose of cold shower, biting all the way down to his bones. And a new kind of fight began. Whenever one of them was trying to step closer, the other supplied them with an icy spray in the kisser. The cook's skin was red all over from the cold, his lips blue, but still he kept on aiming that damn shower head Zoro's way with his scrawny, shivering arms, and Zoro had no choice but to discard his own shower head, withstand the stream and push forward, like he had been forced to during trainings in the mountains, years ago.

"Snap out of it!" Zoro all but ripped the shower head out of Sanji's hold, and sent it coiling and spraying all over the bathroom floor. "You kissed a total stranger, yes! Because you were drunk on booze and high on goddamn adrenaline, and because you're an idiot!"

"Shut your shitty damn-!" the bastard was banging his fists against the tiled wall behind him in his rage.

"_You_ shut up for once!" Zoro had _enough_ of this garbage! "Nobody saw, I got even with your sorry ass, it was a stupid, sudden, physical thing! Okay?! Snap the fuck out of it, you giant sissy!"

He was panting by the time he finished, and his throat felt scratchy. It had been a long time since Zoro had to scream like that…

For a long while, the only sound in the room was the still running shower head snaking around on the floor. Sanji was staring straight at Zoro's face, not saying so much as a 'shit'. Zoro felt like he should say something more; it was an unknown kind of pressure, welling up inside. But the release of said pressure came out as a yelp when Sanji suddenly ducked down, grabbed the tangled shower head and directed it straight into Zoro's face, who stumbled back coughing and gurgling.

"That's for the shitty speech, oh mighty sensei of the body! I can't believe you called me a fucking sissy!" and Sanji was back to yelling his head off. Strangely enough, his strained, pissy voice fell as relief onto Zoro's ears…

"You damn little-!"

"Get yourself cleaned up, shithead," the cook commanded and threw the shower head over for Zoro to catch, "or I won't fucking feed your smelly ass."

"What? You brought food?"

"Uh, yeah? I'd rather be caught dead than eat another slice of that garbage they sell at the corner shit-buffet."

"Yesss!" Zoro found himself grinning wide. "I'm so damn starved!"

"W-whatever, just get your ass under the water already, I'm getting my bag," the cook jabbered and all but leapt out of the shower. Huh, he must have been freezing his balls off, that stupid bastard.

The process of showering was a quiet one. Right after Sanji ceased his yammering about Zoro not having any soap or any other cleansing product on him, calling him a stinking gorilla wart for not showering after working out, and blah blah, various nonsense like that. The damn priss even boasted with bathing every day! For fuck's sake, who even did that?

So after Sanji had forced some of his shower gel onto Zoro, the gym's bathroom soon filled with warmth and steam. The freezing water had kept him awake and alert pretty well, but hot water was making Zoro terribly want to go home and into his bed… He fought the urge to lean face-first onto the shower wall and sleep there.

"Hurry it the fuck up," Sanji spat, stepping out from his own cabin. "I wanna eat and go the shit home."

"Yeah yeah," Zoro just grumbled back. He was too sleepy to even argue with the idiot right then, and that was saying something...

Usually he didn't bother, but seeing as Sanji tied his towel around his waist after he was done rubbing through his uh, cropped hair, Zoro followed suit and covered up, too. Things were tense between him and the stupid cook all the time, so that wasn't exactly news. But this atmosphere… It wasn't the usual I'll-kick-your-ass-to-mars-and-back, or the if-you-try-something-I'll-scream-your-ears-full kind of vibe washing off the idiot. Zoro's intuition could come up with nothing for _what_ it was. And it was making him… cautious.

"Goddamn shithead, you were really trying to filet me with your overgrown kitchen knives..." Sanji fumed. Zoro watched him trace his fingers over the cuts he suffered, mostly shallow, but he scored some bigger ones, too.

"Your own damn fault," he approached the shit-cook at the mirror, ruffling the water from his hair with his palms. "If you weren't flailing all over the place like a damn rubber chicken, I could actually have hit you with the blunt side."

"So you're putting the blame on me for being a shitty noob with sword fighting now? Fucking _really?"_ the damn bastard quipped.

"Sure," Zoro rolled his eyes. "'Noobs' get weapons licences all the time."

"Well _duh!_ Watched the news recently, shithead? Pretty sure you have a wanted poster lying around somewhere, stinkin' Marimo swordsman."

So Zoro hadn't had a decent sparring partner to use his katana on since… In a very long time, okay? So what? He wouldn't give the curly-brow the satisfaction of admitting to it.

"Whatever, stupid cook."

The irritating series of wet stomps along the floor signaled that the unfriendly neighbourhood moss-patch was making his way out of the bathroom. Sanji felt the warm brush of steam against his back as Zoro stepped past behind him, and even though his body didn't start cooling just yet, he still shivered from it. And somehow, his hands on the sink balled up into fists…

The drowsiness was knocked out of Zoro quite literally. The shitty cook's elbow jammed into his side sharply just at the junction of the bath and the lockers, and he crashed against the stone archway with his shoulder.

"Agh, oi! You still wanna fight, you damn bastard?"

Why the fuck did Sanji not use his legs instead? This way the green buffoon only needed to reach out, yank him by the arm, then shove him against the opposite side of the arch! Stupid, stupid, stupid…!

Zoro's back slammed against the stone this time. Of course the damn cook's knee was buried in his stomach where he had the worst sore spots...

However, the green asshole promptly reached to grab a hold of Sanji's thigh, as well as his shoulder, to flip him around and press his face against the wall. Hah, as if Sanji would go that easily. He knocked his head back against the fucker's big nose, shot his heel forcefully against his hard fucking shin and shoved a palm against his disgustingly ripped chest to get him to stumble back…

But Zoro was on him the minute the stupid bastard turned around, knocking the air out of his lungs with how hard he shoved…

… and fuck it all to freezing hell, Sanji couldn't move away! The fartbreath's arms were just grossly strong! Ugh! How he hated the fucking moss-for-brains bastard! He hated his pot ugly mug, his stupid brainfarts he called words, his ridiculous way of fighting, his gorilla strength, his shit-eating grin, how Sanji's shower gell smelled better on his shitfucking skin and…!

… And Sanji was on a rampage, pummeling Zoro with fists and knees and feet wherever he could reach, hitting Zoro so hard in his aching stomach that he was seeing stars…

… and the shitty bastard finally let go of him, grunting in pain. And that was when Sanji forced the stupid Marimo against the side of the archway once again, pressing him back by his chest and forehead, wheezing, huffing, victorious…

… and Sanji's face was so close Zoro could see faint freckles around his nose, taste the smoke on his breath...

.. and of all of the shithead's stupid faces, Sanji hated this awkward, blushing one the most…!

The dismantling blow, that night at the back of the Zombie Night - that had been a drunken, messy tumble of tongues and lips, tasting of puke, booze and spearmint chewing gum. The hasty, impulsive nip of Sanji's lips on Zoro's was much more sober, shaky. But still uninvitedly hot.

Sanji pulled away almost immediately. His breathing seemed almost more laboured than before. Zoro watched the cook's Adam's apple quiver, then bob up and down with his swallow…

"It's… It's physical..."


	8. Obstacles

**Chapter 6: "Obstacles"**

"You're going to be the death of meee…!"

Just a minute. Maybe some explanation was in order as to why Chopper was on the brink of crying tears of rage in Zoro's bedroom.

It had started like almost all of Chopper's Sundays mornings had. Technically, Sunday was his only free day in the week, but for a doctor-in-training, there was not really such a thing as free time. Wah, that sounded so adultish, right? Well, Chopper _was _turning seventeen that year. And he would hopefully graduate college in the next! Calling him a genius wouldn't make him happy at all, idiot!

Where was he now. Oh, yeah! So, Sunday afternoon was reserved for studies, yes, but mornings were for treats and friends, like they had been for years! See, when Chopper had gotten into high school years ago, they had cooked and eaten breakfast every Sunday morning with his roommates - Zoro, Johnny and Yosaku. It had been a weird grouping, the four of them. But their room had been the only one with a free bed for a sudden new entry, and the guys had turned out not to be as scary as Chopper had at first thought! Far away from home and the Doctorine, those breakfasts were really valuable for Chopper. Even if none of them had really known how to cook, hehe!

Yosaku and Johnny had moved back to their hometowns after graduating high school, though. But Chopper and Zoro were still keeping the tradition, even though they were no longer living under one roof. Buuut they had both decided not to overdo the cooking bit…

It had been Chopper's turn to take care of the food that week. Zoro had agreed to sweets this time, yay! So Chopper had made his way over to Zoro's place from his dorm, with a backpack full of ingredients for strawberry pancakes. Those had looked easy enough to make! Chopper had left the dorm a little too early for Zoro to be remotely awake yet, but at least he would have had time to prepare the batter and then go and cuddle a bit. The recipe had said the mixture would have to sit for an hour at least, anyway. Getting in wouldn't have been a problem, either. They had exchanged keys a long time ago. Chopper sometimes stayed at Zoro's when the dorms were closed for the holidays, after all!

However, when Chopper had gotten off the subway at the closest station to Zoro's apartment, a person had walked past him, limping a whole lot and grumbling to himself. 'Shitty shit,' had been what he had said…?

"Sanji? Sanji! Is that you?" he had called after the figure, and sure enough, it had turned out he had been right.

"Ah. Morning, Chopper."

But when Sanji had lowered his hood and Chopper had seen his broken lips, cuts and bruises, all untreated, he had just not been able to let the poor guy go like that. What kind of lousy doctor would have done that?

Sanji had been hesitant when he had offered to look at his injuries. However, he had shown outright resistance when Chopper had mentioned that he kept a medkit at Zoro's place, nearest to the station. It had taken all of Chopper's pacifying and convincing skills to get Sanji to go with him; that and the mention of pancakes, and apparently him being 'too adorable to resist'. Chopper wasn't adorable! He was manly as hell! You bastard!

Chopper had knocked on Zoro's door that time. He hadn't been about to enter someone else's apartment with an unexpected guest with him, even if it had been only Zoro's. It had only occurred to him only after that Zoro usually didn't wake up to any knocking, or ringing his phone only once. Which was the other reason why Chopper had had the keys…

But to his surprise, there had been noises from within the apartment after the knocking, and Zoro had opened the door, confused and grumpy. And covered in ugly bruises and scratches!

"Not you too, Zorooo!"

"Uh… Morning…?" Zoro's eyes had gone straight to Sanji, though. "And what is _he_ doing here?"

"Shut up, fuckface. I came along to make breakfast for Chopper, is all."

"Nice haircut."

"Fuck a hedgehog, rancid bastard."

Of course, there had been no way Chopper could have known that those two had only just parted, about an hour before he had happened upon Sanji in the street. And he had been mislead, too. Luffy had said Zoro and Sanji had been the best of friends! Sure, they sometimes wrestled with the guys, but it always ended in tickling and exhausted laughter on the floor. What Sanji and Zoro were doing was different… Chopper hoped the was just too paranoid and there was no cause for concern.

"I swear, you two! Luffy's birthday party wasn't enough for you? I mean, Doctorine was _there!"_ She had been so worried about him all the time, and then she had seen two of Chopper's best friends fighting drunk…! "I even had to do stitches on your stupid heads!"

The pancake batter had been mixed and was in the process of taking a nap in Zoro's fridge. Chopper had ushered both of those knuckleheads into Zoro's bedroom to try and patch them up from his emergency medkit. So that was why Zoro kept having nasty black bruises every week... _Training got harder, my ass!_

"Sorry, Chopper..."

"Yeah. Sorry..."

"Shut up and lift your other leg, Sanji. Oh god… Do I even have enough bandages here? Zoro, you could have killed him, you know! Fighting with swords on an unarmed opponent! So irresponsible…!"

"Heh, unarmed. Yeah. You should have seen him fighting after he put his shoes on."

"Shoes you have _ruined,_ asshat!"

"Shoes? Shoes?! Are you even listening to yourself?!" Chopper could have skapped them both with the ball of gauze in his hand. "When has this stopped bleeding?" Chopper grumbled as he peeled off the ragged, bled-through piece of paper tissue off a cut. "Oh cripes, it's _still_ bleeding?! Aughh!"

"Sorry-"

"Shut up! I'm mad and I have scissors in my hand! Okay, Zoro, your turn! God, look at all this! Okay, you're coming to the hospital first thing tomorrow, I need to have this scanned!"

"I'm fine, Chopper. You worry too much."

"Don't argue! Aghhh, you guys…! You two and Luffy, too! You're going to be the death of meee…!"

Chopper collapsed on the bed between the two idiots, exasperated. It was a nice 'thank you' to have them both pat his back, though. He felt a little less like crying.

"Where's the Marimo?"

Some minutes later, Sanji was standing at the stove to bake their pancakes. Well, they had agreed on Sanji showing Chopper once or twice how to, and then he could do the rest. He was looking forward to trying it, after all!

"In his room," Chopper replied, watching as Sanji heated oil in a pan. "If he doesn't keep his eye under ice now, it might swell badly until tomorrow."

"Ah… I see," was all Sanji said to that.

For a while, the kitchen was silent, except for the calm guitar tunes coming from the mini speakers in the living room behind them. Zoro still had the mixtape they had made…! Chopper's chest swelled up each time when he heard it…! The oil sizzled in the pan, and Sanji quietly reached for the ladle, and Chopper tried to remember about how much batter went into the first pancake, poured and stirred quickly.

"Do you feel bad about it? His black eye?"

"Fuck no," Sanji replied almost instantly. "Now watch this," he jerked the pan up to flip the pancake.

"Wow, cool! I wanna try, too!"

Chopper was excited to be handed the empty pan. Distributing the batter went sort-of okay, even though the shape was more amoeba than round. But when he flipped it…

"Oh no!"

It didn't get stuck on the ceiling, thankfully. But it did tumble down onto the grid of the gas stove and got a big, gaping hole in the middle.

"Ah, that's okay," Sanji reassured, and with a quick pinch of his fingers, he pulled the pancake right back into the pan to bake the other side. "I'll take this one. Or would you like to have your first pancake for yourself, Chopper?"

"But it's torn! I messed it up," Chopper sniffled.

"Well, that doesn't mean it won't taste just as good," Sanji ruffled his hair. "You did good for your first try, little guy."

"Really…?"

"Hell yeah! Now, don't forget to add a bit of oil before the next one," said Sanji, handing the oil bottle to him, too.

"Thanks!" Hokay! Chopper wouldn't give up so easily!

"And..." Sanji trailed off. He waited until Chopper could circle the batter along the line of the pan evenly. "I kinda do feel bad about it. About Zoro's..."

"Hey, Sanji. Do you hate Zoro?"

"What..?" That seemed to startle Sanji. "I… Yes? A little. I mean, he's a colossal pain in the ass, but… Sparring with him is actually, kinda… Kinda fun, and… Ugh, he just has a knack for making me so _mad…!"_

"Mm, I see. O-oh no!" Chopper totally forgot to flip…!

"Oh! Oh, wait, here, use this," Sanji handed him a wooden spatula from the near empty utensil rack on the wall. "This might work better for you," his words sounded warm and nice. But they were also distracted, somehow.

"Say, Sanji..." Chopper carefully flipped the pancake. Damn, it was too dark… But it would be more bitter, so Zoro might like that...

"Hmm?"

"I..." How could Chopper begin? How would Doctorine do it…? "You know, I've also been studying psychology, so… If you want-"

"Oh no no, it's okay," Sanji cut in quickly. "Thank you… Thank you, Chopper, but it's nothing like that. I'll… I'll try figuring this out. On my own. For now..."

"Okay," Chopper allowed.

"I uh..." It was only after another batter refill and a flip that Sanji spoke up again. "I don't… I didn't hit him so much because I particularly enjoy hurting him or anything like that, a-and I don't think he did, either, so… Please don't worry. We'll deal with this."

"Yeah," Chopper nodded, then paused until the freshest pancake was safely placed onto the plate with the other two. "I know you will! But if you guys need me - need us -, we've got your backs. No matter what."

"Chopper… Thanks," Sanji said softly, then pulled Chopper into an one-armed hug. "You've already helped," he added in a hushed voice.

"Yay~ Um, I mean, that doesn't make me happy at all, you idiot!"

They heard a noise, like a snort, coming from the living room. Turning around to peek over Sanji's arm, Chopper could see Zoro standing in the kitchen doorway. Each time Zoro smiled, Chopper felt like they were the same age. Or as if they both had gotten younger; just dumb little roommates in high school...

"O-oi, mirelit Marimo," Sanji hastily let go of him to sneer over at Zoro. "What are _you_ looking at?" Only Chopper was close enough to see the tremble in Sanji's lashes, the slight flicker of his eyes.

"Two dorks cuddling in my kitchen, I guess," Zoro yawned loudly, then pulled out a chair to sit down at his small table. He wasn't smiling anymore, just looked at his folded hands on the tabletop…

"Well, Dork King," Sanji scoffed. "Now that you're here, you could move your ass and lay the table. Food's not done yet."

"Yeah-yeah..." and indeed, Zoro stood up again to pad over to the cupboard.

Sanji went ahead and started on the strawberries and cream, and Chopper turned back towards the stove, coating the pan with oil and starting on the next pancake. He wasn't feeling so anxious about the two of them anymore. Sure, he wasn't deluding himself, thinking that would have been all with tending to their various wounds. But, just like his mentor Dr. Hiluluk had told him again and again - the road to overcome some obstacles was rocky, but not impossible to walk.


	9. Smooth Operator

**Chapter 7: "Smooth Operator"**

The atmosphere in the library at nighttime was absolutely exquisite. With the scent of fresh coffee and old books in the air, Nico Robin's researches could go on into the wee hours of morning, undisturbed and flowing. And she was looking forward to those quality hours to arrive that day, as well, rest assured. But first, she had to see to the important duty she had been called in earlier in the afternoon to check upon.

Leaving her lavender raincoat in the lobby, Robin punched her entry card by the wall. She found the old entry system rather charming, in fact.

Supposedly, an influential owner of a prized scroll collection was waiting to meet her in the auditorium. The person, however, defined her own collection as, she quoted, 'the bestest in the world, waina!', so Robin would be lying if she wasn't suspicious about it. And also a tad bit curious…

She could see light streaming through the crack below the audience hall's big double door. Robin almost gave in to the urge to peek through the keyhole to see who or what was lying in wait for her inside. Oh my... How silly. She was making herself chuckle. After all, she had already befriended most of the 'ghosts' in the library.

Slowly, Nico Robin pushed one wing of the double door open. And as soon as she set foot inside, the drums emitted a low, prickling beat, and the suit-clad saxophone and trumpet players started on a soft, vibrating melody, harmonizing with the tempo of the steps she took towards the stage. There were at least ten of them. And Franky was there, in the middle, wearing his most outrageous attire yet - a robot suit, with a tuxedo over it…! Ah, she just couldn't hold back a tiny little laugh.

"There she is!" Franky announced when she had approached the stage closely enough. "The star of tonight's show! OW!"

"Dear me. I hope this does not mean you have tied my collector up and put him between the horror and the mystery shelves..."

"T-that's so creepy…!" she heard some of the Franky Family whisper behind their… 'main bro', was it?

"Naw, nothing like that!" Franky assured, raising his hands up in a pacifying manner. "We uh... " He cleared his throat. "We asked you to come here today 'cause we wanna show you somethin', Nico Robin. It's, um… We've written you a song. _Your_ song. The one you were singing at Luffy bro's party for us, at the truth or dare game? Y-yeah, that one."

"Big bro is so nervous…!"

"Shush, Mozu, waina..!"

"Oh my," Robin smiled at the ragtag, but all the more endearing little band, then moved to seat herself in the closest first row seat. "Please, show it to me. I'm very curious."

"O-okay then! Ladies, gents, let 'er rip!"

At Franky's signal, the beat of the drums and the buzz of the wind instruments was picking up again, still slow and sweet like a lullaby. A jazzy piano tune joined in shortly, making Robin sway slightly with the rhythm. Ah, and there was a conga drummer, too! Oh, it fit so lovely…! But the melody was crying out for a vocal...

Robin stepped onto the stage, like she had done a million times before as the master of ceremonies. But this time, her debut was shared with all who had come to listen in…

"Please give a warm welcome toooo… Nico Rrrrobiiiin!"

Franky did the announcing this time, then courteously offered his spot to her in the middle of the ensemble. Just then, a focus light beamed down on her, and more of Franky's 'bros' and 'sissies' appeared in the last three or so back row seats, applauding. Oh, they had really come prepared.

The pianist gestured for Robin's cue, and she took a deep breath, and began singing her own lyrics to the song composed especially for her. It was vastly different, singing on stage compared to humming in abandoned reading rooms. But it shone through that the Franky Band was a tightly-knit group, perfectly keeping each other's paces and improvising at will. So Nico Robin, surprising even her own self, found herself carried by the melody very easily. And when she held out the last note of the song, what awaited her were cheers and applause, even tears; not laughter and rude remarks… It had been more than worth leaving home early on a rainy July afternoon for. More than worth bowing down to.

"Ah, Nico Robin…!" Franky stepped up next to her. His textile kerchief was moist with tears. Such a sweet man. "That was… That was super beautiful! Uh… Did you like the song…?"

"Why, yes. It was wonderfully made. Thank you, all of you," Robin curtsied. Her legs were a little shaky. Oh my…!

"OW, I'm so glad!"

"Say, Franky-san," Robin smiled over at him.

"Yes?" Franky straightened his bowtie. Oh, it suited him so strangely, but it was nevertheless charming. "Yes, Nico Robin..?"

"Does your band happen to have electric guitars?"

"_Whaaaaaat?!"_

Nico Robin would have never believed she would drive the Franky Family's tow truck during her lifetime. She was not unused to staying up all during the night, so playing with the Franky Band until late, and until early, didn't faze her too much. Her accompaniments of the evening, night and morning had been exhausted, however. She couldn't blame them. None of them could have guessed that her secret passion was symphonic metal. Ah, it had been heavenly to sing in that style on stage…! Most of the Family was fast asleep on the back of the truck. Robin hoped none of them would fall off accidentally…

The rain had subsided, the streets glowed alive with the light of the sunrise and the new engine of the truck was humming low and sweet. Like a lullaby.

"Thanks for driving us home, Robin," Franky said, flicking his sunglasses up onto the top of his head and extending his hand to help her out of the truck.

"Oh no, I am the one owing you thanks," Robin took the helping hand delicately in hers, then ascended slowly, carefully from the high seat. "Tonight was wonderful, truly. Thank you ever so much, Franky-san. How could I ever repay you?"

"Ah, no, don't mention it…! I'm just, uh, just glad you had fun. Your chance to shine, yo!" Franky smiled, delightfully lively, as always.

Robin reached out to touch his smiling face, but was met with a pair of startled, shy eyes. Leaning just a little closer, she pressed her lips lightly to Franky's cheek. The face he was making as a reaction drew a chuckle out of her. Silly, sweet Franky-san. Robin could count on him to make her smile.

"Good night, Franky-san."

"Uh… G-go-good night…!" Franky picked his hand up in a motoric wave.

Laughing quietly some more, Robin straightened out her raincoat over herself and began her stroll towards home. It would take some minutes to get to her apartment, that was true. But maybe that lovely little flower shop was already open…

Oh my. In front of the flower shop, Robin recognized a familiar figure. His unmistakable green hair and everlasting frown betrayed Zoro despite the slight, heated summer fog. He looked so deep in thought that he didn't seem to notice Robin approaching him, however, even though she had chosen to wear heels that day. Could he have been thinking of buying…? Oh yes, he had set his eyes on something; on the vase of cut red roses on one part, and perhaps that adorable little pot of gloxinia on the other…

"I would recommend the violet gloxinia."

"Ah!" Zoro jumped heavily from her words. "It's you, Robin..." he breathed out. "Told you to stop scaring me like that."

"Ah, pardon me," Robin apologized. "But, I don't think the roses would be much of a success..."

Yes, that would have been perfect. Requiring moderate care and bringing lavish blossoms, gloxinia was a beautiful plant indeed. It was also favourable in numerology, as a strong, leading kind of plant, a symbol of the sun. But also one of love at first sight. And its petals were slightly fuzzy…

"How do you know I even wanna buy something?" Zoro raised a curious eyebrow.

"Don't you?"

"Well..." He glanced over to the laid-out flowers and plants once again. "No. I don't," he concluded. "Take care going home," Zoro added curtly, then dashed past her in the direction she had come from.

"Zoro!" Robin called after him with cheer.

"What?"

"I believe you live in the other direction!"


	10. Eet

**Chapter 8: "Eet"**

Taxis were halting, then continuing on their way outside in the heavy October evening rain. Guests; familiar and not so known faces were still hanging about, with one last glass of Halloween punch, with one last conversation piece hanging in the air, with one last minute left until their cab arrived.

Brook was thoroughly spent after the engagement party. Tired to the bone, he might have said, yohohoho! Franky-san and Robin-san weren't the people to waste time with things such as commitment, marriage and family. And Brook couldn't have agreed more! Life was short and feeble, so easily brought out-of-tune, so easily scratched, or broken, or even lost. He wished them both good fortune and merry melodies to guide them on their path to happiness. Why shouldn't they start treading on it while the sun was still in the sky, when the stars still shone dazzlingly bright?

Stroking its deep black finish, Brook closed the wooden hood onto the piano keys. Until recently, he had hit those keys down, or strummed on his violin forlornly, searching something long lost. As if he had forgotten the tune most dear to him; what tempo, what gusto it had, how exactly the liquid harmony of the notes following each other flowed, even though it had been etched into his bones, onto his skin, in shape of names, places, dates…

Oh, Brook had still been afraid to board airplanes. Still missed his friends, his band, so strongly… But after meeting Luffy-san and his crew, it was as if a void had filled within him. Not the same way, not completely, no. But comfortingly, warmly, promising life, and light on the road once again. And Brook had remembered his favourite song once more.

Life. Life was but a song. An orchestral play, a serenade, a rhapsody. Whatever you made of it. Life was in how the piano had sung beneath Brook's fingers, life bubbled forth from Robin-san's throat as she let her own song be heard in front of her closest for the very first time, life buzzed and throbbed in the drumsticks and trumpets and electric guitars of the Franky Family accompanying her… It had been such a beautiful performance. Robin-san even shed tears. And so did he.

Life was in the way Luffy-san never got the tones right in a song, how Usopp-san and Chopper-san tried to insert rapping into every possible place, how Nami-san, Vivi-san and Kohza-san made jests out of each others motions during singing, how Sanji-san and Zoro-san made a competition of every possible aspect of a song - how high it could go, how much tenor it could take, how fast of a pace it could have…

And relationship, too, Brook tied to music. They weren't all that hard to figure out, if one cared to dwell a while on the details. The dots, the little arches, the line breaks on a music sheet, the annotations written on top, of old days and new. The hand that holds the sheet, leafs through it, traces a finger over the fresh or frayed paper. The voice that chooses to sing to it, the band that chooses to play it, or create a new and fresh cover with their own taste, their own views… Yes, sometimes, the melody needed to be reinvented, combined with others, over and over, precisely to keep it originality, its flavour of life.

Yes, that was Brook's philosophy. Life was a mashup. The grandest mashup in existence!

There was life, there was music in how Zoro-san and Sanji-san fought each other. There was a rhythm to their banter, their shoving around, their huffing breaths. There was gentle sunset and sparkling starshine in the way their hands touched as one brought the other a simple can of coffee from the vending machine…

Friends of old, friends of new! Keep playing your music, keep playing your songs closest to your heart. Reinvent, reorganize, reiterate… but never, ever forget how it felt. As it played, played along sweetly, on the cords of your soul.


	11. Help I'm Alive

**Chapter 9: "Help I'm Alive"**

The first clue had been the brats at work being especially well-behaved that day. The second, the sesame bar smuggled into his locker - half-eaten, but it had still been in there, between his shoes. And the third, and final one he had gotten was his apartment door having been locked with two key-turns instead of just one, like he usually left it as. From there on, it was pretty obvious; his friends jumped forth from behind his couch, blaring paper trumpets and shouting cheers his way…

How could Zoro ever forget his birthday?

As usual, after they had made quick work of the gift-giving and birthday wishes, Luffy, Chopper and Usopp were already tearing Zoro's game console apart. Okay, technically, it belonged to the four of them, since they had bought it together, but it was still in his apartment. It wouldn't survive a day in one room with Luffy.

He had gotten heaps, _tons_ worth of booze as gifts. Zoro didn't mind, not in the least. The others knew exactly what ind of stuff Zoro liked, and never bought for himself. Kinda only Robin's presents to him brought some variety, with a lexicon of great swordsmen in history and a dragon-enameled box of ginkgo green tea.

And there was the cook, last in line. Staring daggers at him from below his ridiculous curly eyebrows. Was he still angry about the flower…? Nah, he bet the shit-cook did that for no particular reason, as per usual. Zoro was learning not to even question that.

"Here," Sanji spat, and shoved a box into his hands. "Happy birthday, shitty Marimo."

Zoro glanced over at the cook, hesitant, before he decided to open it. Inside the cardboard box lay yet another box, but that one was made out of lacquered wood this time, with rounded edges and a leaf-patterned finish. It smelled new, and like sweet wood...

"Stop sniffing at it! What are you, a caveman? It's a bento box. Because you keep dirtying up mine. Fucking green asshole," Sanji explained. Kind of.

"Oh. Thanks," Zoro nodded. Before he put down the cardboard and handed the bento box back to the cook. "Here."

"What the ever-loving shit?! The fuck do you think you're doing, giving it back to me?! Are you a shitty dead-brained plankton, idiot?!" Maybe Zoro shouldn't have done that. Sanji looked very much like he wanted to break it to splinters...

"What's your problem? You're still gonna cook the stuff that goes in them, right?"

"You…!" Oh, look at that. The cook went quiet. Why was he looking around, though…? "C'mere, you spoiled birthday brat," he muttered, then quickly stepped to embrace Zoro, tightly.

_Oh._ Okay… Cool.

Though, when it had just barely occurred to Zoro to put his hands... sometwhere, Sanji shoved him away as if _he_ had been the one initiating it, then stormed off. Into the kitchen, where else?

After that, Zoro didn't see a sign of Sanji for quite a long while. Luffy had laughed at him that his rum was almost all gone, and being a little foggy in the head, Zoro was laughing with. Vivi and Kohza were defouling his Twister set, with Nami spinning for them. Usopp and Chopper were having a marshmallow eating contest - which Luffy was disqualified from, of course. Franky and Brook apparently were trying to teach each other to play the banjo and violin, respectively, and Robin was busying herself with tending to Zoro's dying plants in the kitchen window. Well, whatever. His party looked like it was fun. Maybe he would share the sentiment once his rum was _actually_ gone…

"Hey, shithead..."

Ah, there the stupid cook was. And what he had in his hand smelled like a sure recipe for a hangover, whatever it might have been. Sanji sat down on the armrest of the couch. Even though there was still room on the cushion right next to Zoro. Damn idiot. Zoro took the last swig of his bottle and left it dangling from his hand. Huh? That glass Sanji had brought, it was actually for Zoro? The cook must have thought so, to shove it into his hand…

"Why do you enjoy looking so much like a pile of sour kelp on your own shitty birthday? Just looking at you makes me wanna cry."

"Well, cry me a river. Not a party person, is all," Zoro took a sip of the mixture that was in his new glass. Tasted suspiciously like Long Island Iced Tea, without the ice and the tea. Nice. Zoro had worse before.

"Yeah, I remember," Sanji snorted. "You're the eternal party pooper."

"That's right," Zoro allowed.

The way the shit-cook curled his body against the curve of the couch would have suggested... a few things, but Zoro went with the theory that the idiot was drunk. Not Let's-Break-The-Bathroom-Door-And-Jump-The-Security-Guard drunk, per se, but tipsy. It was a good thing he handed over that glass to him. Even though Zoro couldn't think why the bastard would bring him booze. Niceness? What niceness? Zoro not having tits and a twat, the chances of that were pretty sim…

"Finished this all on your own, you drunkard?" Sanji smirked at him and took his empty bottle, only to set it down on the floor somewhere.

"Nah," Zoro shrugged, "Nami drank half," he said and grinned back. The perverted bastard surely would vaue that comment.

"What a shithead…" Yep, on point. "Getting ladies drunk like that… Fucking disgusting!"

"Yeah, cause it's only okay when you do it."

"Say what?! I would never, _ever _do that to a precious lady like Nami-swan! That was uncalled for, admit it! Shitty fartsniffing Marimo, pinning his own shit on me-!"

"Shut up."

So noisy. However, Zoro seemed to have found the cure for Sanji's massive case of compulsive mouth diarrhea. A nice, sudden tongue kiss. Zoro held the cook's head in place, too, while relishing in the wiggly feeling of the idiot almost falling down from the armrest.

"Y-you fucking…!" Tearing himself away, Sanji's face flushed such a bright red that Zoro really had to wonder if the rest of his body was getting enough blood. "What's the big idea…! In front of everyone…?!"

"What…?" Zoro could only blink. Okay, he didn't see that one coming. 'Iin front of everyone,' he said...? "You'd... You'd be fine with it if nobody saw, then?"

"Gh!" Sanji bit his lower lip. Oh, this was new. "F-fuck no!"

"That's why you tried to get me drunk?"

"I didn't…! You _are_ already drunk off your ass, shithead!"

"Nice try, shitty cook, but your logic is crap," Zoro snickered. "I kiss people when I'm sober, remember? Unlike a certain horny drunk…"

"That does it, you shitty bastard!"

And with that, Sanji went into full-blown rage! Not only did he kick the glass out of Zoro's hand, he jumped on the sofa so suddenly and so roughly that it almost tipped over with them both still on it. And then, amidst a lot of screaming, punching, slamming against the wall, and toppling over furniture, Sanji basically managed to kick Zoro all the way to his own bedroom. And once the door was shut behind them, he pressed Zoro's back against it and kissed him so fiercely, so deeply that Zoro second-guessed his judgement about Sanji's alcohol-to-blood ratio…

"I wanted you drunk," the cook hissed against his lips, breathing heavy, "cause _I_ wanted to kiss you, and not just…! And it's crazy! Shitty fucker!"

"If you wanted to kiss me so bad," Zoro growled, grabbed the cook by his shoulders and flung him back-first against the door in his stead, "you could have just done it! I… I don't hate it. You know," Zoro managed. Okay, that was more embarrassing than he would have thought…

"Then just shut up and fucking do it," Sanji huffed, and after yanking Zoro closer by his shirt collar, their lips were pressed together again.

The kiss was rough and raw at first. Their tongues were slipping and spilling out between their joined lips, and their teeth were clattering everywhere. Though, eventually, as Zoro's hands found their way into soft, blond hair, and Sanji's fists were easing into soft palms on top of Zoro's chest, trailing onto his back… It felt like some kind of warming up. Their hips were tilting forward, against each other. Their lips and tongues felt more caressing now than pinching… It was like passing the boiling point together, and melting into just one, hot mess.

Breathing into the kiss more and more, they reached for the key almost at the same time. When the lock clicked, they broke away, staring into each other's eyes. Zoro's chest rose and fell with his open-mouthed exhales, and seeing the saliva glisten on Sanji's lips, his pulse was pounding even harder in his head, beating like a hammer.

But the heated throbbing against his thigh belonged to another heartbeat…

Sanji pressed the edges of his palms onto his torso demandingly, and Zoro stepped back. _One step, two steps…_ He caught the cook's nape in return, pulling him in for another kiss; he wanted his stupid muffled grumbling in his mouth, even while they were walking backwards. When the edge of his bed hit his shins, though, he half fell back and was half pushed down onto it by Sanji, forcefully and breathlessly.

The blond's knee brushed along his outer thighas the cook slid it onto the bed. Then came the other knee, and heat poured over Zoro's groin from between Sanji's thighs. Not close enough...

Zoro grabbed a hold of the cook's waist to jerk him down on top of himself. That little groan the idiot let slip spurred him on even more. He was planning to flip Sanji over onto his side onto the bed, but the bastard would have none of it - Sanji caught his tongue in his mouth again, sucking, groaning with it. Zoro's hands stroked down onto the cook's thighs that were firmly holding him in place on the bed. Those, and Sanji's hips snapping down against his own…

"Mmm…!"

He tried grinding up against the cook's groin, even grabbed Sanji's ass to rub against him stronger, but it wasn't enough. Zoro wanted more… He pushed himself up into sitting on the bed, and Sanji slid further in his lap, against his bulge...

"Aaah-!" Sanji broke up a moan with his hand pressed against his lips.

Shit, was Sanji hard... And holy _shit,_ Zoro was turned on so _bad…!_

Zoro tried to nip away the blond's fingers that were covering up his mouth, to be able to taste his lips again. Sanji responded, with tiny, shivery brushes of his tongue. Since all of his energy seemed to go into his trembling, induced by of how they were rubbing their hard-ons together, again, and again. But that couldn't have been the only thing. Sanji was pulling away, pushing against Zoro's shoulders and whimpering into the kiss.

"Oi..." Zoro breathed, glancing up.

Sanji was a flushed, shivery mess. But somethig was off. His eyes were open wide, his nails were digging into Zoro's shoulders, and he was looking down between them, then glanced back up onto Zoro's face, all the while his breathing came in hitches. That didn't look good.

"You uh... You wan-"

"Do you..." Sanji breathed out, and visibly relaxed a little, the grip of his hands not quite as tight anymore. "Do you have… a gum…?"

"Gum?" Zoro knitted his eyebrows together. What the hell did the shitty cook need a gum for all of a sudde- Oh. _Oh fuck…_ "Uh… Yeah, um, wait a sec…" he mumbled, trying to reach down to his jeans back pocket, and… "Found one," he looked up at Sanji again with the stick of spearmint gum in his hand.

As if in a daze, Sanji took the gum from his fingers, and after unwrapping it, he brushed his thumb against Zoro's lips.

"Open up..."

Zoro already had a fairly good notion where this was going, so he gladly obliged. He chewed on the gum a couple of times to soften in, but Sanji barely seemed to want to wait for even that. He dove down again to catch Zoro's lips, and his tongue came prying inside, searching for the sweet minty taste. Just like he had at the back of the Zombie Night, piss drunk and sweaty from their fight. But not now. Sanji wasn't drunk now...

"Mmmn…!" Sanji's moan was caught up in their kiss.

Zoro trembled, swallowing the sound, and some minty saliva. His hands on Sanji's hips, he began grinding up to him again, making the cook shiver with the friction. Driving more of his sounds down his throat... _Oh yeah..._

Sanji became braver with twisting his hips, too. He was, pressing, shifting, slipping, _riding_ Zoro's lap, rising up, then sinking down along his bulge. Like he had been dancing. Like he had moved on top of him last time, too...

"Mnnhhh... Ghh..!"

Because after the last time Sanji's body had been moving on top of him like that, enveloped in a crazy, lusty, drunken daze, he had barely been able to stand up from the ground. But not just because of the shock of it all. Zoro had barely been able to keep from touching himself...

Should he have called after the damn bastard? Or should he have called for help...?

"Hahh…!" Zoro needed to break away for air.

"Aah…" Sanji gasped against his lips. "Shit... Shit, aah... Aaaah, t-touch me… Touch me now…!"

_Oh holy hell…_

"Zoro...!"

_Oh holy fucking hell...!_

Feeling, ridiculously dizzy very suddenly, Zoro reached down between them with his right hand. Sanji was sputtering small gasps and groans all the while he was trying to open the fly of his pants. But it was all worth it, once he pulled Sanji's erect cock out.

"Aah… Ooh God… Oh fuck…!" Sanji went absolutely mad, sucking Zoro's lips into a wild, hot kiss. "Mmmnh…! Hghhf!" his every breath made a sound.

Zoro was just about to zip his own pants open to stroke himself, but Sanji's hand reached inside his jeans first. Heh. Not planning on going down alone, huh…? Sanji was still in for the gum, too, licking, sucking nipping on Zoro's tongue. The cook's shivery hand was squeezing his dick, pumping up and down, and Zoro was jacking him off with similar speed, then faster, clenching stronger, until Sanji joined the fight and sped his hand up, too, making their mouths be open more than pressed together, panting, groaning… The cook could have taken the gum half a hundred times. It kept slipping off his tongue, however, every time he moaned…

"Mmmhn… aaah, fuck…!" Sanji shook in his whole body. "Aaah shit I'm… I'm…Zoro, I'm go- Aaah shit…! F-fuck…!"

"Sanji… Aaah Sanji…!" Zoro threw his head back, his cock pulsing in Sanji's squeeze. Why did calling the idiot's name feel so damn good…?

"Fuck- Ghn-!"

Sanji bit down hard on his lip to choke his moans. His cum spilled out all over Zoro's fist around his pulsing cock, soiling their clothes. And Zoro was not far behind, but Sanji's hand started to release its clenching, so he grabbed it, along with his own dick, pumping it further, more, _more_…_! _Until all Zoro could do was collapse against Sanji's shoulder, gasping for air. His heart was thundering in his chest, his cheeks felt hot and his spine felt like liquid, and…

Good thing he didn't believe in gods. None could have helped him now. For Zoro had no regrets.

"You okay…?" he was panting, putting an arm around the blond's sweaty back.

"Yeah..." Sanji wheezed hotly against his neck. "You…?"

"Haha..." Zoro laughed weakly, breathlessly. "Happy birthday to me…!"

"I can't fucking believe you just said that… Shitty idiot…"

**THE END**


End file.
